Different Path
by MtnGhostCat
Summary: This is sort of an AU of my story - A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE. Mostly the same but Shepard survived destruction with her memory intact. Admiral Renfield was more insistent on chasing Garrus away and the Turian has gone to hide, to protect Shepard, in the disordered galaxy.
1. Chapter 1

_Greetings All. It would appear that I'm a glutton for punishment. I had this idea before I settled on - A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE. So this is basically an AU where Shepard survived the Destroy choice with her memory intact. Admiral Renfield was far more aggressive in chasing Garrus off. Threatening to drag him in and charge him with various crimes while painting Shepard as his willing and sadistic accomplice. Still recovering from privation while getting the Normandy back in the sky, Garrus hasn't the strength to fight back and simply runs. Kaidan isn't quite playing fair but isn't the impediment he is in Perspective. Do let me know what you think. This Universe and its wonderful characters belong to Bioware I'm just playing with them._

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Different Path

 **Dasken**

Dasken paused on the steps of the diner. Looking over to the craggy range of the Bekten Mountains, just beginning to glow in the morning sun. Behind them, rigidly pointing to the sky, were the crooked insect like legs of a Reaper – barely visible.

As she had done for near two years she cursed them – it – to whatever place of eternal punishment would take it. She wasn't sure if any hell, as the humans called it, would accept a soulless machine like the Reapers – but she didn't care. Turning from her anger – her hate had slowly grown cold over the past months, for a moment she savored the memory of her mate.

Jostel Banns had been large, not the brightest of intellects; but with a heart and spirit to match his size. His shuttle had been shot down by the now dead Reaper mere minutes before the Reaper had, itself, simply crashed to the ground never to move again.

The colony of Tesertus had been saved, but at a cost; for the Reaper had taken more than just her mate with it.

Shaking off the 'what ifs' that achieved nothing save to hold her back; though from what she wasn't sure – she opened the door and stepped inside.

The Citadel Diner was medium sized but still cozy with an old style human counter, tables and booths against the outside wall. Right now it was dim, windows closed against the morning light; but from the sounds in the kitchen Rich, the human cook, was hard at work getting ready for the morning rush.

She made her way behind the counter and started the coffee maker and the _Khaal_ brewer. She and Paty, the other waitress, had an agreement – whoever got in first got the hot stuff going.

She prepped then turned on the steam tables.

Rich glanced up from where he was grilling something – bacon, she thought – and nodded. He didn't talk much. Like her the war had cost him, in his case his oldest son. She nodded back and kept working.

Moments later the door opened and Paty and Elzis the Turian cook came in together.

"Morning Dasken." Paty greeted her with a big smile. Elzis gave her a mandible click as he headed into the kitchen.

Neither multi-armed or a center of galactic politics the Citadel Diner had gained its name because it catered to both levo and dextro and could handle just about any race. Up to an including Elcor – though they'd have to dine outside on the covered patio. They weren't so sure about Hanar though ( _Did Hanar even use diners?)_ but they hadn't been put to that test.

Paty, meanwhile, was opening the shades and letting in the morning light, though the automatic window tinting would keep the light at a comfortable level for the first couple of hours. Mornings could get exceptionally bright in Tesken until the near constant clouds rolled back in. It wasn't dismal but rather a touch subdued.

"Anyone new in town?" Dasken asked as she put on her apron, settling it comfortably on her hip points. Neither waitress wore a standard uniform, but their aprons were similar.

Paty's husband, Joe, worked down at the port and always kept his wife informed of new arrivals. Paty was endlessly curious about newcomers. Nosy, Rich had called her once when she wasn't around.

"Bunch of humans that immediately headed up into the mountains." The younger woman said setting out milk ( _both synthetic and real_ ) and a variety of sweeteners.

"Eezo!" Dasken snorted. "None around here; but I doubt they asked or would have listened had they asked."

Paty hummed in agreement. Dasken hid a smile – the younger woman kept trying to replicate Turian sub harmonics – Dasken and Elzis didn't have the heart to tell her that her attempts were unintelligible at best and occasionally hysterically wrong. Fortunately she only practiced on her co-workers.

"Oh, Joe did say that a Turian got off the supply shuttle last night."

"Turian? Must be down on their luck to take the supply shuttle."

The supply shuttle was not a passenger craft and anybody booking passage ended up having to find space for themselves in between unwieldy stacks of cargo. A very uncomfortable ride. Also though there were Turians here in Tesken, it wasn't exactly a place they were likely to seek out.

"Yeah, youngish he thought, but you know he's lousy with ages." Paty paused to put out silverware and napkins. "Said he moved like he'd been hurt at some time." That part didn't surprise Dasken – most everyone who'd fought carried scars of some kind, physical, mental, or both.

"Miner?"

"No. Joe thought he was carrying an armor case and a weapon's case but he couldn't make out any details."

"Colony marks?" Dasken laid out dextro cutlery on the dextro side of the diner. That's how nothing got confused at the Citadel. The dextros ate on one side ( _their cooking was done on that side also_ ) and the levos on the other side. It kept anyone from ingesting the wrong protein. Everyone understood the why of the separation and accepted it as logical and non-speciest.

"Joe didn't recognize 'em. Said something about blue and then another ship came in and he had to deal with that." Paty handed Dasken a bunch of napkins. Some things were universal between the two chiralties – napkins being one of them; though Turian napkins were a touch tougher than human ones to deal with their facial plates.

Dasken nodded and put the lone Turian out of her mind as the regulars started coming in.

Jorge, who ran a tech/mechanical salvage shop. Mostly leftovers from the fighting two years ago. Buddy, a useless pain in the butt according to Paty and Rich, but harmless except for being an annoyance. Shop keepers, few that there were – several were Turian, but they'd come in later for now they sent their assistants to get _Khale_ and a snack. Their mayor – such as he was didn't come in this morning. He'd be in later, no doubt, spouting some gobbledygook as Paty said. Whatever gobbledygook was.

Their doctor – thank the Spirits – really just a glorified Asari field medic; but skilled enough to patch the small stuff and smart enough to know what needed to go to the big hospital in Serlan, the Capital city. She got a large cup of coffee and headed for her clinic.

After a few busy minutes, everybody that hadn't gotten to go had settled down to their usual. Which meant just Jorge and Buddy. Buddy, of course, with his obscene stack of pancakes. Paty often growled, under her breath, that she hoped he'd choke on them.

The far door opened and a Turian stepped in. Dasken knew instantly that this was Joe's lone Turian. He was taller and, she thought, a touch broader than the other Turians in town. From his movements she thought he was a relatively young man; and, as Joe had said, he moved with a slight limp.

He was dressed in a dark brown old style hooded Turian coat that stopped just above his spurs and that fit his fringe and assorted points; but kept him warm. It also kept his face heavily shrouded.

He paused, just inside the door, and glanced around as if unsure. If he was uncertain, Paty wasn't.

Ever curious – she bustled over to him as Dasken was stuck behind the counter.

"Welcome to the Citadel diner, honey." She greeted him warmly. "What can we do for you?"

"I was told you served dextros here…" He glanced around hesitantly, other than Dasken he was the only visible Turian. Dasken did note he didn't try to loom over Paty so he must be used to being around humans.

"Sure thing, honey." Paty assured him. "We serve both." She pointed to the booth by the door.

"Have a seat and Dasken will be with you shortly." As she turned to go. "You want _Khaal_?"

"Er…yes, please." His voice was deep and rich. Dasken hadn't heard a young Turian male's voice for a time and though she wasn't interested she could appreciate it and him.

Getting out her order pad, she waited until Paty had poured a cup of _Khaal_ and handed it to her; then she took it over to the stranger.

He glanced up as she approached the booth and she had to lock down her facial plates and her sub harmonics.

Even beneath the deep hood – she recognized the blue marks painted across his nose and cheeks. Palaveni!

"What can I get for you, honey?" The human word tasted like ashes to her. Palaveni were, in her bitter experience, demanding and spoiled, lording it over other Turians.

He tilted his head curiously at her use of terms.

"I don't know what you have?" He was quiet and surprisingly respectful.

She put a menu pad down in front of him and touched the screen to activate it.

"Not a large selection; but it's as fresh as we can manage." She told him, inwardly bracing herself for a complaint.

"Anything not ration paste is fine." He murmured, mostly to himself. So, ex-military she thought wondering what had brought him to Tesertus. Or as Jostel often called it, the talon scrapings of the galaxy.

He gave her his order quietly without fuss or unreasonable demands. She typed it into her order pad, sending it through to Elzis.

"You want something for your _Khaal_?"

His quiet manners had made her a little less uneasy around him.

"Do you have Quarian sulta?"

"Yes." His choice surprised her. Not many Turians knew of sulta.

"I'll bring it back."

He nodded as she went back behind the counter where Paty was waiting, or rather lurking.

"So what's he like?" Paty hissed in her ear, startling her and almost making her drop the container of sulta.

"Paty, I'm just taking his order." She hissed back.

"Well, find out more. He seems good-looking. Is he gonna stay?"

Dasken just rolled her eyes – learned from Paty's husband Joe.

Paty, besides being born curious ( _nosy_ ) was a romantic. She was constantly trying to set her friends ( _fellow workers_ ) up with suitable partners.

Dasken and Elzis had been spared, pretty much up to now because there weren't many Turians in town and most of those that there were had mates. Though she had tried to get the two of them together until Elzis had rather curtly and loudly informed her that Dasken was the wrong sex for him. That had been an exceedingly awkward moment for the human waitress that the two Turians still chuckled about occasionally; but not where Paty could hear them.

Paty had a good heart, as the humans would say, and Spirits knew she meant well, she just didn't know when to back off.

Ignoring Paty's many hissed instructions Dasken took the sulta back to the stranger.

He was sitting quietly just staring out the window as she approached. All she could see was the side of his somewhat battered coat and his gloved hands wrapped tightly around his mug of _Khaal_. Not wanting to startle him because she was sure he was a warrior; and you didn't startle a warrior – even an ex-warrior, so she stepped on a particularly squeaky floorboard. She saw his hands tense around his mug for a split second and then he relaxed and glanced over as she put the sulta down on the table.

"Thank you." He said, his voice so soft that even with her hearing she almost had to strain to hear him.

"Your meal will be ready shortly."

He nodded and she let him be.

She'd only heard it for an instant before he'd locked down his sub harmonics but she recognized the note of loss in them. This one was grieving someone.

When she got back behind the counter and before Paty could start hissing at her again.

"He's mourning someone, Paty." Dasken cut her off. "Leave him be." Paty looked disappointed but she had manners and wouldn't bother the stranger.

Elzis had his food ready quickly and Dasken took it over to him, again making a slight noise before she got there. She also brought what Turian condiments they had and catsup. For some odd reason most Turians could ingest catsup with no problem and many liked it.

Leaving everything on the table in front of him, she went back behind the counter.

For a time it was quiet in the diner. Jorge and Buddy eating and waking up under the influence of coffee; or in the stranger's case – Khale.

Then the center door opened and Dasken cursed under her breath. Behind her she heard Paty near growl.

Three teen-agers were coming in the door. Two humans and a Turian. It was Moras and the Advek brothers. Tesken's pathetic version of a gang. Pathetic or not, they had pistols and Moras had his out.

"You're not welcome here, Moras." Dasken didn't give him time to go into his intimidation spiel.

"My gun says I am – old woman." Moras's voice was barely not an adolescent squeak.

"I don't talk to guns – I'm talking to you, youngster." She knew she was not handling him right but she was sick and tired of him coming in and trying to intimidate everyone. Every damn morning for the past week.

"Well, I'm talking to you." Moras hissed, pointing the gun at her. From the sounds of it – Elzis and Rich hadn't realized what was going on out here. Buddy, the sniveling coward as Rich called him, had already slid out the side door. Of course without paying for breakfast. His tab at the end of the month was going to be huge. Jorge didn't run; but he was watching everything cautiously.

"Enough!" Came a deep voice and they both turned to find the stranger on his feet. He'd stepped into a more open area between the counter and a booth.

Moras looked him over, taking in his old style, well-worn coat, and laughed. A heavy note of insult in his sub harmonics.

"Fuck off, old man. I'm not talking to you."

"But I'm talking to you." The stranger took a step forward, arms to his side. Apparently non-threatening; but Dasken had led another, harsher life once and she clearly recognized that he was readying himself for a physical confrontation.

"I said fuck off.." Moras deliberately stepped into the stranger's personal space to snarl up into his face. "..or I'll make you sorry." With that he went to shove his pistol into the stranger's chest to make his point.

Before Moras even knew what was happening or could react – the stranger's hand snaked out and grabbed the pistol, twisting Moras's arm, hard, to make him let go of it then jabbed his other hand into the youngster's shoulder joint. Dasken heard a pop as it dislocated and Moras dropped to the floor with a howl.

The Advek brothers hadn't even begun to react when the stranger pointed Moras's pistol at them.

"Drop your pistols…NOW." Whoever the man was, he was used to giving commands and having them obeyed and the brothers reacted to it. They threw their guns at the floor.

"Kick them behind the counter."

The two did what he told them while Moras was rolling around on the floor holding his arm and crying.

Without being told, Paty picked up the two pistols, handing one off to Dasken. The two women instantly turning them on the brothers. Rich and Elzis had finally realized what was going on and came out of the kitchen, both armed. Rich with a shotgun and Elzis with a pistol. They backed up the stranger.

"Any law keepers in town?" The man asked. Sub harmonics rough with anger.

"No. We've got one that makes a circuit but he's on the other side of the mountains." Rich answered him.

"Got a jail?"

Looking at the troublemakers, Rich sighed. "We wish; but no. It was destroyed during the war."

Moras was struggling to get up when the stranger slammed his boot into his chest driving him flat on his back. Moras actually whimpered though the stranger had avoided his dislocated arm.

"Alright, your lucky day. Don't come back here – ever." He glanced up at the brothers. "His shoulder is just dislocated. Take him to a doctor and don't you come back here either. The law keeper and the Alliance will soon know about you."

With that he stepped back from Moras and let the brothers get him back on his feet and the three quickly staggered out of the diner.

After the door had closed, he waited a ten count then turned to the others. "Is that going to come back to bite you on the ass?"

"Hell no." Rich lowered his shotgun. "Moras is just a snot nosed kid who thinks he's bad. The real bad ones were killed during the war – thinking they were invulnerable."

"The young usually do." The stranger sighed and looked to the pistol in his hand. Moving with practiced ease, he checked it out.

"What a piece of crap." He rumbled. "It's so dirty that he's lucky it didn't malfunction or explode in his hand."

Pulling the heat sink, he handed it, grip first over to Rich who was closer.

"Thank you for helping out, Mister?" Rich looked to him.

"Gar…Garet Vakan." Dasken noticed that he stumbled over that name and wondered if that was his real name.

"I'm Rich Panzelli, this is Elzis our dextro cook." Rich indicated with a wave of his hand. "and this is Paty and Dasken."

The stranger – no Garet – nodded politely at them.

"Why isn't Moras in basic? He looks old enough."

Elzis sighed. "We heard that the training grounds on Palaven were destroyed and no transportation even if they weren't."

"Why not start you own training grounds?" Garet commented. "It would keep whelps like Moras from getting up to trouble."

Dasken noted his use of the word whelp – from her experience it was a word mostly used by Krogan. She wondered then if Garet was an ex-Merc.

Elzis shrugged. "Who would teach them?"

"I'm sure there must be ex-Hierarchy soldiers around." Garet said. "If you made it so every species could go there you'd probably get a lot of different veterans to help out."

The four looked at each other.

"It's an idea." Dasken spoke up. "We can tell the Mayor about it and he can tell the Governor."

"You know he'll take credit for it." Elzis scowled.

"If it gets it done and Moras out of our fringes – who cares." Dasken had no illusions about their Mayor.

Rich looked over Garet. "What about you, Garet? You seem like you've had training."

Dasken saw the younger man tense slightly at that, but when he spoke his voice was calm. "I'm not really the teaching kind."

"What are you here for then?"

He glanced down for a moment as if studying his feet when he looked back up, Dasken got the barest glimpse of ice blue eyes under the shadow of his hood.

"Just looking for a quiet place to settle." He replied, looking out the window of the diner. "And forget."


	2. Chapter 2 - Returning to Normal

_Hello All, I hope things go well for you. Pardon this chapter being a bit on the dry side but I'm trying to establish the situation here. For the time being I'll probably alternate chapters between Shepard and Garrus. I hope you like this. Thanks to all who have faved, are following, or have commented - you make my day. If I make a mistake, please let me know I'm not perfect._

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Returning to Normal

 **Shepard**

If Commander Jess Shepard had to accept one more scraggly, in some cases, slightly singed bouquet from an admiring fan she was going to scream. Not at the giver ( _never at the giver_ ) – usually they were shy children – eyes haunted with loss and nightmares. Nightmares she understood only too well – most nights she startled awake drenched in sweat. She'd, at least, learned to muffle her screams – so as to not disturb others or draw unwanted attention, but she still instinctively flinched when a she heard a distant horn.

The last time that had happened was just as a little girl – dressed in stained but clean, cut down adult's clothes had been about to hand her another bouquet. The little one dropped her bouquet and whirled – looking for escape or for the Reaper she feared.

Realizing what she'd done, the girl's face had scrunched up; ready to cry when Shepard knelt down ( _ignoring her stiff, scared knees_ ) and put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's okay to be scared." She'd whispered. "I'm still scared of that noise."

"Really? The girl's eyes went wide in amazement.

"Really." Shepard assured her before she gracelessly pulled herself upright.

The grateful look on the little one's face had made that particular D&P as she'd taken to calling them well worth it.

No, her irritation was for the Alliance for insisting she parade around the planet on ' _uplift' tours_ – designed to make everyone feel better that the Reapers, that had left earth badly chewed over, were gone.

As far as Shepard was concerned – what would make people feel better were tangible things like food, medical supplies, and shelters, concrete plans for rebuilding, and the people and materials to make that happen. ' _Dog and Pony'_ shows might make people feel good for a couple of hours but when the fuss died down there were still hungry, oft times injured people living in barely adequate shelters.

When she got home she'd be telling the Alliance that.

Home – home for Shepard was one place only – the Normandy. She'd spent months in the hospital recovering while the Normandy was missing. Then her ship had finally limped back to earth from where ever the devastating wave of red energy had thrown it.

Barely having regained consciousness, still she'd been dimly aware of the excitement of its return. Immediately ship and crew were hustled into quarantine. Kept away from everyone but the Alliance Brass who wanted to know everything. Away even from Shepard.

But the Alliance didn't know her crew well and as soon as they found out she was alive and recovering – those that could, snuck away to see her. She secretly treasured the night that Cortez and Vega had shown up as orderlies. Steve had fit right in; but poor Vega's outfit was so tight that she was afraid that if he sneezed he'd end up naked. And she was sure that Donnelli and Daniels had been trying to take lessons from Kasumi.

Those that couldn't get free managed to contact her privately. Omni-tools might not work as well as they once did but you could still – for the most part – talk to someone.

Joker had been the one to primarily talk to her that way, once Cortez had snuck in an omni-tool to her, and she'd come to know the acoustics of his bathroom far better than she ever wanted. He'd developed a paranoia about bugs that rivaled anything of Massani's. ( _She hoped the old bastard had survived the war_.) But she appreciated more than she'd ever be able to make up to Joker, his letting her know what was going on with her 'home' and her crew.

The crew had been taken off the Normandy and put in base housing while the ship was being repaired. She'd taken a beating when she landed on that distant planet. It was a miracle that they'd gotten her back into the air at all; but then her people were used to delivering miracles.

But for all those who snuck in, or called – the one voice, the one man she wanted ( _no needed_ ) to see had been absent. Garrus.

His order for her to " _come back alive_ " had sustained her through all the long days and tortured nights of her recovery.

But he hadn't showed up at her bed side, called, or even sent a note– the only thing that kept her heart from shattering was Joker saying that he'd received a call from Primarch Victus not long after the Normandy had landed. Whatever else Garrus was – he was Turian and Victus was not just his Primarch but his friend; and she knew the Turians had been hit as hard as the humans.

But it still hurt, and at night when she rolled over she still instinctively reached out for him, only to encounter a cold and empty space.

She busied herself with anything and everything she could find or do to keep from thinking about him; but sometimes it didn't work and she had to hide her tears from the others. She was sure Kaidan would be perfectly happy to console her; but she didn't want him. She wanted her smart assed vigilante. She wanted Archangel.

Meanwhile the only good thing about these Alliance D&Ps was that they kept her part in them fairly short. Near two years after the Reapers had been destroyed and she was still recovering. Privately, to herself, in the quiet hours of the night, she'd begun to think she might never fully be the N7 marine and Spectre she once was. It hurt; because at her core she thought of herself as a soldier/ a weapon – without her physical skills what would she be.

"The Commander is what you'll always be no matter what, Shepard. Even if you become a mess cook or would that be a messy cook." Came a deep, rumbling voice in her mind; and despite the pain it caused she had to smile. Even if he wasn't here – Garrus still had her six – and could still make her laugh – the smart ass.

She stepped up into the Alliance shuttle after saluting the crowd, still carrying the weedy bouquet they'd given her. She'd keep one flower from it and discard the rest; but not where those who gave it to her could see it. She wouldn't insult them in that way.

She could sense Kaidan coming in behind her. Figures that the Alliance would allow him to accompany her on these tours but not the rest of her crew. She'd be having words with them about that also.

Kaidan was a friend and a fellow crewmate; but it seemed like he wanted to rekindle what they once had and she wasn't interested.

Hadn't been interested since Horizon, or Mars, or the stand off on the Citadel. He never said anything out of line, he just gave off that vibe.

Kaidan shut the shuttle door and pounded on the wall of the cockpit to signal the pilot. Then he settled down next to her on the bench. A little too close she thought but she wouldn't call him on it – just yet.

"Do you want me to dispose of that for you, Commander?" That was Orson – her very efficient, very officious aide – pointing at the bouquet.

"I'll take care of it, Orson. But thanks." She kept her voice calm. This was about the sixth time he'd asked that question and she'd told him no. Obviously he couldn't take a hint.

"That went well." Kaidan spoke up. "I think we brightened their day."

"What would brighten their day is supplies and shelter, Major." Shepard retorted. "Did you see the state of those tents they were using? Damned relics. They're lucky it doesn't snow around here."

"These things take time, Commander." That was Orson. She turned the stare on him that had made grown Krogans quake. ( _Alright – look a little uncertain.)_ He had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Admiral Renfield is waiting for us on the _New Eden_." He went on, avoiding her glare.

"Good, I wanted to talk to him." She did and this would just make it easier.

Knowing her dislike of most of the remaining Alliance Brass, Kaidan looked at her dubiously. She just gave him a dazzling smile. Far more familiar with her than Orson, he started to look concerned.

It only took a few minutes for their shuttle to return to the destroyer they'd been using as a base. The _New Eden_ was one of the last of the FTL Destroyers that had come out of the Groton Ship Yards before its destruction.

It was nice but it wasn't the Normandy, something she was determined to remedy.

Once they docked. Orson led the way ( _like she didn't know it by now_ ) up to the conference level. In some ways, she thought, he seemed to think because she was physically infirm that she was also mentally infirm.

She nodded to the crewmembers that they passed. Nice people but not her people. By now, most of the crew had gotten over serving with the ' _savior of the galaxy'_. She hated that designation. Every warrior, every soldier that fought was a savior even if it was only one life, one supply truck, or one med-evac.

That's why after the first D&P she insisted on getting a list of all those who'd fought from whatever place they were visiting and mentioning them prominently in whatever speech she chose to give. The Brass in the form of Admiral Renfield had grumbled about that; but the local and international press praised her for her consideration and he said no more.

When they hit the Conference room, Renfield was waiting. A middle aged man, close trimmed grey hair, with a slightly pinched look to his face as if he'd been sucking a lemon. In the midst of shortages and lacks of service, his uniform was always clean and pressed. Shepard was just happy if her uniform was clean and moderately unwrinkled. While she could, no doubt, find someone on board to iron it for her – she considered it a waste of somebody's time; besides she knew it drove Renfield crazy.

Shepard, Kaidan, and Orson came to attention in front of Renfield.

"At ease. Commander why don't you sit down." He motioned to a chair that Orson scurried to pull out for her.

While she dearly wanted to sit down, she was sick and tired of being treated like she was going to have a case of the ' _vapors_ '.

"I'm fine, Admiral. You wanted to see us?" While she didn't sit down, she did lean surreptitiously against a nearby chair.

"To give you your next month's itinerary and to congratulate you on a job well done." Renfield smiled.

"That's good sir…" She paused and noticed Kaidan straightening up out of the corner of her eye. "But no more 'uplift tours'."

"Very funny, Commander." He smiled but there was little mirth in it.

"Not funny, Admiral but truth. I'm done with these tours." Shepard made it a simple statement of fact. She knew it was going to be a fight so she avoided fronting any attitude.

"You don't have a choice, Commander." Renfield told her.

"Actually I do." She returned calmly. Part of her was shocked at her basically telling an Admiral to 'shove it' and a little voice in the back of her head was cheering. "I don't have to get out of the shuttle, I don't have to give a speech, and I can give an interview to the reporters who follow me like a swarm of husks, saying that the Alliance is wasting money and man power on these tours when they should be concentrating on recovery."

"Commander!" That was Alenko. No doubt about to stick up for the Alliance. "The Alliance knows what it's doing."

"No it doesn't." Shepard shot back.

If Renfield's features had looked pinched before now they looked like he'd sucked on a whole bushel of lemons.

"I'll court-martial you, Shepard." Renfield growled. Kaidan was shocked by that, Shepard noted; but then he'd never been on the receiving end of the Alliance's displeasure.

"Go ahead." Once she would have cared, now she was just tired of being a poster child for the Alliance, an Alliance that had dragged its feet time and again and cost millions their lives. She was also tired of being useless; and though she didn't really like it, she was well aware of what the galaxy's opinion of her was.

"Don't push me, Shepard…" Renfield began as the doors to the conference room came open.

"I'd stop now, Marc." Came a dry voice that had everybody snapping to attention. "The last people who threatened Shepard – didn't fare well."

"Admiral Hackett, sir!" Even Renfield straightened up as the Admiral walked in.

"At ease." Hackett glanced around the room. "Someone want to tell me what's going on?"

"Commander Shepard.." Renfield put a lot of emphasis on her rank. "Is refusing my orders."

"Shepard?"

"Yes, sir. I told him I was done with 'uplift tours'." She paused and looked at the older man. "We need to be focusing on reconstruction and helping where ever we can; and that's not by doing tours."

"The tours are good…" Renfield began and Hackett waved him to silence.

"They were good, Marc. The Commander is right; we need to start pouring all that energy into reconstruction."

"Sir.." Renfield began and again Hackett cut him off. "Marc, you've done an excellent job with the tours; but it's time to move on to other things."

After a moment's thought. "Gentlemen, I'd like to talk to the Commander alone, if you please."

Orson almost bowed his way out, Kaidan was giving her compassionate looks, and Renfield was glaring as they left.

Hackett waited for the door to close then slumped into the nearest chair. He motioned her to one and she gratefully collapsed into it with a sigh.

"Care to explain, Shepard?"

"I meant what I said, Admiral. I'm tired of 'Dog and Pony' shows – I need to be out there doing something useful with my time."

After a moment's thought the Admiral gave her a tired smile. "Agreed; but you could have been a bit more diplomatic about it."

"I was being diplomatic, sir."

Hackett chuckled at that. "That's what I was afraid of."

Shepard grinned in return then went on. "Besides I've been trying to get this idea across to Admiral Renfield for weeks and he just keeps ignoring me."

Hackett looked askance at that.

"I get the feeling he thinks I have to be protected like I'm some frail damsel."

That elicited a very loud snort from Hackett. "Hardly."

"Either that or the man's a closet misogynist." She went on.

Hackett thought about that for a moment. "Hmm, Renfield is pretty old fashioned in his beliefs, and because of the war he was thrust into a position he might otherwise not have occupied. So you could be right."

"And I'm fairly sure…" Here she scowled. "…that he's not fond of aliens."

"Is that why Vakarian isn't with you?"

She was silent for a moment, hiding the pain that that statement caused. "According to Joker he got a call from the Primarch almost as soon as the Normandy landed, nobody's seen him since."

That got a nod from the older man. "The Turians have an embassy out in the English countryside – some old mansion. As far as I know that's where the Primarch is."

"Then Garrus will be out there." She said with far more conviction than she felt. Something didn't feel right about this whole situation.

"So what do you want to be doing, Shepard?"

"I want to be helping people. If that means carrying supplies, then I'll carry supplies or evacuate people or..whatever..just not giving boring, useless speeches." She exclaimed in frustration.

"You'll need a ship for that."

"I already have one." She stared at him. "I know the Normandy just finished her refit and is ready for flight and I want her back."

Hackett scowled. "Let me guess, Moreau told you." It was more a statement than a question.

"It's all over the Ethernet, Admiral." She returned, determined not to give Joker away.

"I'm sure." The look he gave said that the Admiral wasn't fooled by her deflection

"I believe Admiral Renfield had plans for her." Hackett told her. That got a very sour look out of Shepard.

"I can put her to far better use then a floating office." She retorted.

"I'm sure you can." Hackett smiled. "You'll want your original crew back…no doubt?"

"Anyone that can come back or wants to – yes! I know a lot of people are looking for family or dealing with the aftermath of the war and I won't have them dragged away from that. But I definitely want Joker back; and Chakwas if she's not needed elsewhere."

"And Vakarian?" Hackett asked shrewdly.

Again Shepard masked the pain that hearing his name caused. "Yes."

"The Primarch may not want to let him go."

"We'll reach some sort of compromise – Victus is a reasonable man." She stated and Hackett just nodded.

"I'm also going to start chasing down those who've been preying on survivors or the relief forces. Apparently Aria's merc forces weren't all wiped out. Mores the pity."

Hackett straightened up in his chair and fixed her with a stare that once would have terrified her; but she'd faced off against Reapers – one disgruntled Admiral was nothing.

"I hate to be blunt Shepard but you're not field worthy." He didn't mince words.

"I'm well aware of that, sir; but if I get my ground crew back they were more than capable even without me, and I can always lead from the Normandy or her shuttle." She paused and looked off to the side and sighed. "It's not what I want; but me going out into the field like this is asking to get someone injured or killed."

Hackett nodded, obviously very relieved that she understood and accepted her limitations.

With a groan he came to his feet.

"Are you okay, Admiral?" She asked as she got to her feet.

"Yes, just a few things my doctors need to do." He admitted. At her suddenly concerned look.

"Nothing fatal just a lot of wear and tear that needs to be fixed." He told her and she nodded in relief. Hackett wasn't one for lying.

"Alright, as soon as she passes her inspections – the Normandy is yours again." He told her then paused. "But the Alliance is going to want to have one of their senior people on board with you – possibly even as XO."

She scowled. "It'll probably be Alenko, he's a favorite of theirs, and I can accept that; but if it's Renfield I'm not responsible if he accidentally falls out of an airlock."

Hackett shook his head and snorted. "How did you ever pass the N7 diplomacy course, Commander."

She gave him a shit-eating grin. "I cheated?"

After a stunned second Hackett started to laugh and Shepard joined him.


	3. Chapter 3 - Out of the Way

_Hello All, I hope life is treating you all well. Would have posted this last night but I'm at a friends and someone in the area is sucking up all the band width. Couldn't even load the Fan Fiction site last night. Grrrrr. Anyway, here's the next chapter in this story. Three guesses as to what the rust heap in the back is, and the first two don't count. LOL As always thank you for the comments, favs, and follows - you make this all worthwhile. Have a great one._

* * *

Out of the Way

 **Dasken**

"You looking to settle here?" Rich asked Garet. ( _If that was his real name_ ) Dasken thought.

"If I would be welcome?" Came the quiet reply. Now that did surprise her, most of the Palaveni she'd met weren't usually that diffident about things. Downright arrogant was more like it.

"I have a room in my house for rent." Elzis spoke up eagerly. Dasken had to curb her sub harmonics, obviously the cook liked what he saw when he looked at the younger man. Plus most of the other Turians in town were involved in a relationship or too old for his tastes.

"I'd prefer something private, no offence." If Garet could discern Elzis's inclination, he was gracious enough not to mention it out loud. "The war." He added by way of explanation. An explanation that the others understood immediately, most all were suffering some version of PTSD or night terrors.

"What about out at your place, Dasken?" Paty spoke up, eyeing the two. Dasken almost rolled her eyes again at the obvious attempt at Making Match as the humans said.

"That's actually a good idea, Paty." Rich said and turned to the younger man. "Dasken works/lives out at, I guess you'd call it, our orphanage. The young of all the townspeople who didn't survive the war and haven't any families, that we've found so far, to go to. They've been looking for a handy man and who ever it is, has a small place of their own on the grounds."

Now Garet looked interested. "I'm not much good with a hammer." He held up one three fingered hand.

"What can you do?" Rich went on.

"Tech, some computer work…" Here he paused and gave a rueful smile. "Vehicle repair, I'm very good at that."

Jorge had been listening quietly to the conversation and he suddenly spoke up. "Er, I could use someone who's used to fixing military tech and vehicles." They all looked at him.

"I can't pay a whole lot, though." He admitted.

"How can I be a handy person at this orphanage and work for you?" He indicated Jorge.

"You can work a couple of hours for Jorge and the rest of the time for Anna and myself." Dasken told him. "That's what I do."

"Anna?"

"Anna Steward. She and I run the home or orphanage or what ever humans call it." Dasken explained, not sure she really wanted the Palaveni to be living so close. "I care for the non-humans and she takes care of the humans."

"What would my duties be?" Garet asked quietly. He wasn't fronting any attitude. He was the most un-pretentious Palaveni she'd ever encountered and while in some ways that relaxed her; in other ways it made her cautious. You were always leary of the unexpected.

"Repairs around the place. Fixing the tech that's suffered in the last two years. Cleaning up leaves and branches and the like."

Garet stared out the window again as if he was communing with something, then he turned to Jorge.

"Is that acceptable?"

"To get someone familiar with military tech – damn straight. I'll take whatever I can get." Jorge exclaimed and held out his hand.

With no hesitation, Garet took it and shook it. Confirming Dasken's suspicions that he'd worked around humans.

"That's settled then." Paty exclaimed, beaming.

"Paty, you don't even know if Anna will say yes." Dasken protested.

"Of course she will. Last week she was about ready to hire the Advek brothers or Moras" Paty retorted.

"She was just mouthing off as you say, Paty." Dasken shot back.

"Anna Steward has a big heart but about as much common sense as a baby pyjak." Paty exclaimed. "And you know I'm right."

Dasken wouldn't admit it out loud, but Paty had Anna pegged. Caring, compassionate, and clueless to a fault.

'Where is this place?" Garet spoke up, almost as if he was trying to prevent an argument between the two women.

"Dasken can show you, when she gets off work in a couple of hours." It was Paty, forging ahead with whatever romantic plans she had for the two.

Dasken let out a long, low, barely audible hiss of annoyance. Garet glanced at her and she saw his upper eye plate lift. Obviously he understood the situation better than she would have thought.

"Would that be acceptable?" He asked Dasken.

"Sure. Gives Jorge a chance to show you his collection of relics." She retorted.

"They're not relics." Jorge protested. "They're antiques."

That got an eye roll from everybody present except Jorge and Garet.

"You keep telling yourself that, Jorge." That was Rich, heading back into the kitchen.

"When should I come back?" Garet addressed himself to Dasken.

"In three or four hours." She told him and he nodded absently. Once more confirming her thoughts that he had worked among humans.

After he paid, Garet followed Jorge out of the diner.

As the door started to close behind them, Dasken heard Garet.

"What should I call you, Mr…?"

"Jorge is fine. Mr. Garzes was my dad."

The door shut and Dasken went back to her duties pointedly ignoring Paty who was way too pleased with herself for her meddling.

"Even if he is hurting, maybe you can help him with some stress relief." Paty murmured under her breath. Mandibles tight to her face, Dasken pretended she hadn't heard and kept working.

It was the beginning of the week at the Citadel. Besides being a place that people could come to get something to eat, hang out, and talk to their neighbors, the diner was also willing to allow the townsfolk to use their larger ovens.

Over the past couple of months some of their neighbors had trickled back in from where ever they'd been stranded at the end of the war. For many, their homes were gone completely or badly damaged. Even with help, and for the most part they were all helping each other, repairs were taking a long time.

Some people had a roof and running water, and some sort of power; but cooking anything other than a small ration pack was impossible. And since it was the rainy season – cookouts weren't very practical. So Rich had offered the use of his ovens, free of charge. Those without, could cook up enough food for the week. It was particularly good for those living in a group. He'd also allowed many of those without cooling units a place to keep raw proteins until they were cooked.

Tesken might not be the biggest city on Tesertus; but they were making a concerted effort to take care of their own.

It was lunchtime before Jorge came back in, alone.

"Where's Garet?" Paty asked as she handed him a menu.

"Cleaning up." Jorge explained.

"How's he working out?"

"Man's a damn mechanical genius." Jorge swore. "He's already gotten a couple of the small cooling units up and running. They ain't pretty but they work."

Rich had come out of the back. "That's good we can get one to Miss Tannenfeld. She desperately needs it."

Jorge sold what he could; but those in dire need got what they needed without paying. Others would make it up to Jorge in work or supplies.

"He also got some of those Alliance hover dollys up and running." Jorge went on excitedly. "Pretty much every business wants or needs one."

"Put me down for one." Rich exclaimed as he headed into the kitchen area. "I'm tired of dragging crates and boxes around."

"All ready done. Garet's bringing it over when he comes. He's even been eyeing that wheeled scrap heap in the back yard – like he can do something with it."

Jorge suddenly got solemn. "Hey, don't stare when the man comes in."

"Why should we?" That was Dasken.

"Right side of the guy's face is badly scarred. It's a bit startling when you first see it."

"Most of us are carrying scars, Jorge." Dasken told him.

"Not quite like this…"

Jorge was cut off as the door opened and the man in question stepped in. He was carrying his coat over his arm so for the first time his face was visible.

Jorge hadn't been kidding, Dasken thought, taking in the heavy ropy scars on the right side of Garet's face. The scars looked too old to be from the Reaper war. Turians with scars that bad usually had reconstructive surgery done. Either Garet hadn't wanted it or couldn't get it.

Whatever had scared him had also destroyed his colony marks on that side, surprisingly he hadn't touched them up. Again, Dasken didn't quite know what to make of that. Most Palaveni would have rather worn a mask than gone without complete marks.

Other than that he was fairly good looking with silvery grey plates and tannish skin. Shrewd ice blue eyes took in everything around him.

"I left the dolly outside on the patio, Jorge." He said. "I brought the Mark 4. The Mark 5 should be for the supply depot."

"Good thinking. Which one do you want?"

"The Mark 2 is fine for my needs. That leaves you a Mark 4s, another 5, and a 3."

"You work fast." Paty exclaimed.

"Not really. Most of the dollys just needed a little cleaning and making sure all the contacts were tight." Garet told her.

He glanced around trying to figure out the lay out of the Citadel. Paty pointed him to a seat on the dextro side of the diner, right next to Jorges on the levo side. Barely visible on the counter was a faded double line - blue on the dextro side and red on the levo.

About then, the side door opened and an older human came in, trailed by a younger one carrying a small tray, both were dressed in trail gear.

"Miss Tannenfeld, Rose." Paty greeted them. "Afternoon. Your usual."

"Of course." Small, slightly shrunken with white hair and brown eyes, Tannenfeld's voice was clear but quiet.

"I brought my chicken to be cooked." Rose placed the tray on the counter. Without another word, Dasken picked it up and went into the kitchen.

"Miss Tannenfeld, we've got you a cooling unit." Jorge spoke up.

"Really." The older woman's face lit up. So did the younger ones.

"Really." Jorge grinned. "I'll bring it out this afternoon. Make it a little easier on you and Rose."

"What do I owe you?"

"Nothing…" Jorge began.

"Jorge Ricardo Carzes." Tannenfeld's voice rang out, strong and clear. "I will not be a charity case. Now what do I owe you?"

Coming back out of the kitchen, Dasken had to hide a grin at the way the salvage dealer sat bolt upright in his seat. Even Garet seemed to sit up straighter. In fact all of them about came to attention.

Ex grade school teachers she decided right then – were scary no matter what species you were.


	4. Chapter 4 - Refire

_Here's the next chapter in - A Different Path. Sorry if the language is a touch cruder, this story is a bit darker than Perspective. Hope you all had a great New Year and, as always, thank you for all your support and interest. These characters and this Universe belong to Bioware, I'm just playing with them._

* * *

Refire

 **Shepard**

Stepping through the door, Shepard felt something that had been tightly coiled within her for weeks begin to finally relax.

Stepping on board the Normandy – her ship – her home. She'd finally gotten it back. Now she had to get her crew – her family back.

That might be far, far harder than her ship. She knew they were scattered to the corners of the reachable galaxy. Seeing to their families, their homes, and their planets. She would not pull them from those vital duties. They had already given so much and she would not demand more of them.

She would ask; but it they did not, could not, or would not come back; she was not going to force them or allow them to be forced.

Meanwhile, as the Normandy was home, so too was Joker her little brother. An annoying, smart mouthed little brother; but her brother none-the-less.

"Welcome home, Commander." Came his familiar snarky voice as he swung his seat around. Still a leather one she noticed, and wondered how he'd managed to keep that. Then again this was Joker. He was no Shadow Broker; but he had his ways.

"Hello Joker." She smiled back as she slowly made her way to him.

"She smells too chemical, too fresh." He complained as she stepped to his side.

She took a deep breath, smelling paint, plastic, and the electric scent of cutters and welders.

"I agree."

"Needs a thread of Liara's perfume, the scent of Tali's drone – that thing always smelled weirdly ozone, a trace of Vega's Huevos Rancheros, and a whiff of Gardner's cooking." Joker told her.

"Bite your tongue, Joker." She exclaimed. "I'd sooner smell nutrient paste then one of Gardner's 'experiments'."

Joker cackled at that. "You don't have fond memories of Gardner's cooking?"

"If fond memories are stomach aches then yes." She retorted and Joker cackled again.

"I've missed you Shepard." He gave her one of his patented crooked grins; though there was a haunted look deep in his eyes.

Now, almost two years later he still mourned EDI though he put on a brave front. What made it harder was that she knew, though she could not remember why or how, that whatever she'd done to the Reapers it had also taken out EDI and the Geth. The Reapers had to be destroyed; but why had EDI and the Geth gone.

"Same here, cripple." She, ever so gently, bumped him on the shoulder.

"So what now?"

"Now, we start doing what the Normandy should have been doing all along."

"Good, was tired of being a hauler pilot." He commented, swinging his chair back and forth.

"That's what they had you doing? After the Normandy led the combined galactic forces against the Reapers." She was stunned. "Idiots!"

"This is the Alliance we're talking about, Commander." He returned. "Common sense isn't one of their strong suits."

Then he paused and looked hard at her. "How'd you even get here ahead of them? They've hardly let you out of their sight since you got back on your feet." Here he scowled slightly. "Like you, of all people, need to be babysat."

"I told them I had to pee and then snuck out the back." She admitted, then it was her turn to scowl. "Apparently I'm too valuable to them to let run around on my own. I have to be trotted out like a prize pig."

Joker's laughter was cut off as the ship's V.I. announced the commencement of the Decon cycle.

"Alliance incoming." He frowned and swung his chair around to face the front.

Knowing who was due in, Shepard stepped away from Joker and, with a sigh, turned to face the door. "Later, Joker."

"You got it, Commander." With that he busied himself with checking over the Normandy's systems.

The Decon cycle ended and the door slid open.

First through, of course, was Alenko. He looked concerned until he saw her, then he gave her a big warm smile.

"Shepard, you had us worried." He stopped in front of her. A little too much in her personal space. He'd been, ever so slowly, encroaching on her personal boundaries in the last few months.

She wouldn't back up, though she wanted to; because she wasn't sure he'd respect the maneuver, but she crossed both arms across her chest. Careful not to hit him with her cane, though for a brief moment she was tempted.

Behind him came Admiral Renfield, looking as sour as ever. She wondered if the man ever smiled. Stepping in behind Renfield were two marines that she didn't know. Apparently Renfield's guard; though she didn't understand why he needed two. One of them was carrying the duffle she'd left behind; knowing if she took it with her they'd suspect she was up to something. It didn't contain much but she was happy they'd brought it.

Behind them came Hackett with his single guard. When Hackett caught her eye a frown touched his lips.

She had the grace to color slightly at that. It hadn't been Hackett she was trying to avoid. After a moment he just gave her a resigned smile as if knowing what she'd been thinking.

"You shouldn't run away, Commander Shepard." Renfield began scolding her like she was some snotty nosed grade school kid.

For a brief second she was ready to go off on him, sick and tired of being treated like she was incapable of taking care of herself.

"Marc, the Commander is not some wet behind the ears cadet. She knows her limits and her strengths." Hackett spoke up before she could get herself in trouble.

"Shepard why don't you go put your stuff away, then meet us in the war room." Hackett went on. "Moreau is it still functional?"

"Yes sir." Joker answered back crisply. Hackett was one of the few he didn't usually talk back to.

"I'll help you, Shepard." Alenko said brightly and went to step to her side.

She rounded on him, finally fed up with his attitude. "Are you that eager to see my ratty looking panties, Kaidan?"

 **Hackett**

Shepard was usually not this crude so she must really have been pushed to her limit by the biotic. Alenko looked shocked then he colored. Hackett heard a barely suppressed snort out of Moreau behind him and Renfield grew angrier.

"Commander…" Renfield began to berate her - yet again.

"Enough, Marc. It's been a long couple of days for everyone." Hackett wasn't an expert on Shepard but he'd learned some of the danger signs during the war; and she was exhibiting several of them right now. "Commander, we'll wait for you in the war room or whatever it's been designated now."

"Sir." She gave him a respectful salute then took her duffle from one of Renfield's marines and headed into the elevator.

Renfield gave a displeased snort – rather like a startled horse, Hackett thought then had to immediately banish that thought from his brain or he'd be comparing Renfield to all the types of horses he knew for the next hour. Not conducive to a productive meeting.

Motioning his two guards to follow him, Renfield stalked into the war room.

"Major, a moment." Hackett stopped the biotic, then motioned his guard on into the room.

"Yes Admiral." Alenko was puzzled.

"I'm a confirmed bachelor, Major." Hackett had decided long ago that he couldn't or wouldn't spare any attention from the Alliance for a wife. He'd not do that to any woman, it wasn't fair or right. Over the years he'd seen too many marriages disintegrate because one or the other of the partners was too invested in their careers. "Don't know much about women; but even I know when I've pushed one too far."

"Sir?" Alenko was still puzzled.

Hackett wanted to sigh, was the biotic that oblivious or just that far-gone. Hackett was well aware that Alenko wanted to rekindle a romance with Shepard; but it didn't look like Shepard was even remotely interested.

"You're crowding Shepard, Major." He was blunt. "And no woman likes to be crowded – least of all Commander Shepard."

"She's been injured, sir." Alenko protested.

"Injured, not reduced to a complete invalid." Hackett reminded him; but he had a feeling the Major wasn't picking up on exactly what he was trying to get across. _To step the hell back._

He'd seen an example of this behavior during the war. One of the few times he'd been able to come aboard. Shepard had been burning the candle with an FTL drive by endlessly going over reports. Several times Hackett had seen Alenko try to get her to stop pushing herself. Ordering, pointing out no new info had come in, and several different other strategies that didn't work except, from what he could tell, to mightily piss her off.

Then Vakarian had stepped into the mess where she'd taken over one whole table with data pads.

"That's enough, Shepard." He'd literally taken the data pad out of her hands.

"Excuse me!" Even Hackett would have backed away slowly if she'd used that tone on him. It promised death and destruction for someone.

"You've been studying that info for the last two hours – nothing's changed or is going to for awhile. You need to eat and get some rest."

"You are not the hell my mother or my father, Vakarian." She snarled.

"No. Just an advisor to the Primarch who also happens to be your boyfriend." The Turian had retorted.

"That situation can be remedied." She growled.

"I don't think Victus would appreciate you doing that." He said off handedly. "It's hard breaking in new Advisors."

Hackett saw her try to keep scowling but after a moment her frown vanished and she gave a short bark of laughter.

"Smart ass."

"Ah, but a stylish smart ass." He grinned at her and she smacked him across the chest. All it did was clunk on his armor but it seemed to relax her.

"Garrus I can't…"

"Yes you can." He gently lifted her to her feet. Far gentler than Hackett thought him capable of being, given his size and strength. "You won't do anyone any good if you collapse from hunger or exhaustion; and you don't want a lecture from Chakwas."

She'd shuddered slightly at that. "No, not one of her patented – you are being a ninny lectures."

"Ninny?"

"Idiot, moron." She explained.

"Ah." He began to steer her out of the mess towards the elevator.

"Garrus." It was more a whine than a growl now; and she was only half-heartedly protesting.

"EDI will alert us if something important happens." He told her. "Now you need food and a couple of hours of rest."

She shuddered again. "Oh stars not more meatloaf. What moron decided that giving each ship just one flavor of MREs was a good idea?" She exclaimed, burrowing into his side. He gently, again Hackett was amazed at his delicacy given his size, put an arm around her.

"Probably one distracted by the war but also probably a dead one by now." Vakarian had commented, earning a snort out of her.

"Very dead if the N7s found out who it was."

"Would I be your favorite Turian if I said I had a surprise?" His voice was a surprising coo.

"Dunno. Victus is pretty high on my list of good guys." She grumbled. "And he doesn't try to order me around."

"How about if I said I had chicken paramecium instead of meatloaf?"

"Paramecium? Wait you mean parmigiana?" She perked up.

"Yeah, that's it."

With that she leaped up, surprising both Hackett and Vakarian, and throwing her arms around his neck gave him a hug and a kiss.

Hackett heard a deep rumble start up from the Turian.

"I love you Garrus Vakarian." She exclaimed.

"Well, I'm going to have to get you this chicken whatever more often if that's what it gets me." Vakarian sounded very pleased with her and himself.

"How did you even get this? And did you get enough for the whole crew? They're going to mutiny if the mess cook says meatloaf one more time."

"Joker and the mess sergeant contacted other ships and bases and found that several had the same problem only not with meat loaf so there's been a MRE exchange going on for the past several days. We've got this chicken whatever, chili, tacos, spaghetti, and several other levo selections."

By then they'd gotten to the elevator.

"Enough for everybody?"

"Enough for everybody – even, believe it or not, Vega." She snorted at that.

"What about you and Tali?" Shepard began as the doors opened.

"Victus was kind enough to send through some delicacies for us, so we're good." He assured her.

As the doors began to close, Hackett saw her hug him.

"What would I do without you, Garrus?"

" _You'd manage, you generally do_." Then he smirked. " _Just not as stylishly_."

The clunk of her smacking him on the chest and the Turian's chuffing laugh was the last thing Hackett heard as the elevator doors closed on the two.

The Turian knew how to handle her; obviously Alenko did not. If he didn't learn soon, Hackett was afraid he was going to become a candidate for med-bay.

Shepard's temper seemed very volatile these days. Well, given all she'd been through and all she lost – she had a right to her anger; but it wouldn't help her with people like Renfield.

"Major." Hackett indicated for Alenko to proceed him into the war room. He knew, instinctively, if he left the biotic out here, that the man would try to follow Shepard.

With a frown, Alenko obeyed.

 **Shepard**

Still as slow as ever, by the time the elevator reached the level of her cabin, Shepard had calmed down. She had to get better control of herself, no matter how annoying Alenko could be. If the man would just back off and let her breath for a few moments – figuratively. But he was smothering her, they all were smothering her, and she was about out of patience.

Once on the level of her cabin, she keyed open the lock and stepped inside hesitantly. As with everywhere else – it smelled of paint, plastic, and the other scents of a serious refit. The walls had been painted and the aquarium was currently empty. She wondered if she could cajole the Alliance into letting her set it up again. Nothing fancy just some goldfish maybe. Watching her fish slowly glide through the water had been soothing for her when she had a nightmare, that and….

She wrenched her mind away from that thought and took in the rest of the room. All her personal effects had been carefully packed away into storage boxes. She saw one labeled – MODELS; and she wondered how many had survived the crash.

Another storage box sat on her bed marked CLOTHES, and she realized that it was filled with whatever clothes she'd left behind. Going over to the built in chest of drawers – she pulled open the drawers one after another – empty all of them. She kind of hoped they'd used a female crewman to empty them out. Not that she had any really racy underwear but she'd rather not see any pictures on the extranet of that one set of lacy blue underwear. A blue that would be all too familiar to anyone that knew her. Cobalt blue – Palaven blue. And she'd never gotten to share them…again she wrenched her mind away from where that thought would lead.

She dumped her duffle out on the bed. As she had said to Alenko, several pairs of ratty panties and bras. She refused to accept anything better than what the average soldier was getting. Except for a couple of silk bras and camisoles. Her skin was still healing from the extensive burns she'd suffered and silk was gentle on her new skin until it could toughen up.

She also had lots of leg warmers. They were decidedly retro and out of fashion; but they kept her scared and damaged knees warm and that she needed to keep them from stiffening too badly. Falling on her face or her ass wasn't something she wanted to do.

Her one dress uniform and two BDUs she hung up; then she turned to the storage box marked CLOTHES. When she opened it the first thing she saw was more ratty panties and bras. She'd always been rather hard on her underwear between her under suit and her armor. Bouncing around in her armor without support, even if she'd never been that big, was not her idea of fun.

She lifted out the underwear layer and froze. All the memories she'd been trying to suppress over whelming her. A shirt lay there. A shirt done in an incredibly soft fabric but not designed for a human. A shirt done in the most awful tones of lime green and purple that she'd ever seen outside of a costume.

It was Garrus's Horrible Halloween shirt as she'd dubbed it. He'd claimed it was the height of Turian fashion. She wasn't sure if he was teasing her, or if his taste in clothing was that bad, or if Turian clothing design was that atrocious.

Hands shaking she lifted it from the box, flooded by memories of Garrus wearing this shirt. Teasing him about his lousy taste, while he proclaimed loudly it was the height of Turian fashion.

She'd made a gagging noise at that and he'd ignored her. Then much later, curling up in his lap, drowsy and at peace for a rare moment. The fabric of the HH shirt soft and comforting against her cheek; his sub harmonics gently soothing her body, while his arms held her close. Then much, much later the feel of him against her and in her. She flushed at that, her body wanting what her mind had blocked away.

Crushing the shirt to her chest, she began to cry. Not sobbing though, she wasn't sure what protocols they'd installed in the Normandy's new VI but she didn't want to trigger anything and end up with Alenko up here – ' _just checking on her'_. The tears fell silently to be soaked up by the shirt in her arms.

What had she done to drive him away without even a word of good-bye. She'd racked her mind but could think of nothing.

Then abruptly she was hit by a memory so vivid that for a moment she felt like a drell. It was the battlefield in London. The groans of distant husks and the roaring horn of Harbinger in the background. Smoke, ash, and blood. The Normandy had landed, cargo hatch ramp down.

Garrus stood there, determined to keep following her to the beam despite being burned and battered. So beat up that only Vega's support was keeping him upright. His armor was cracked and dented in many places; and even over the battlefield noise she could hear the faint hiss click of his suit's medi-gel dispenser, now empty, trying desperately to seal his wounds. Wounds that were streaking his leg and side with a thin film of inky blue.

Wounds that would cause him to bleed out in barely a dozen yards if he followed her; but despite knowing it would cost him his life he was determined to ' _have her six_ ' as long as he lived.

But she was equally determined to see that he lived. One of them had to come through this alive; and she didn't think it would be her.

After a last desperate good bye, she ordered the ramp up and the Normandy off before Harbinger could target her ship.

The last she'd seen of him was his agonized, despairing look, hand shakily and futilely reaching for her.

Then the Normandy was gone and she had a mission to complete.

Remembering the pain in his eyes, it wasn't the look of someone who'd just turn away from her. There was something she didn't know; but, by damn, she was determined to find out what was going on. She'd track him down and demand an answer. If it was over, then she wanted to hear it from him not from his absence, he owed her that much.


	5. Chapter 5 - On the Surface

_Hello Everyone. I hope your weekend is going well. So, the next chapter in the AU. It keeps surprising me with characters and situations that I wasn't planning on. I don't know whether that means I'm a good writer or not. Shrugs. Hey I'm having fun and I hope you are enjoying this tale. As always thanks for the favs, follows, and comments. You truly do make this worthwhile. Cheers._

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On the Surface

 **Dasken**

Garet sat and talked with Jorge over lunch. Paty kept trying to shoo Dasken over to attend to the younger man; but Dasken treated him like all the other Turians that had come in to eat. All the shopkeepers, a few Turian couples that had settled there, and a group of ex-hierarchy soldiers.

Once they realized that he was new, Garet was definitely the center of attention, particularly among the few single females in town. Dasken noted that though he wasn't interested in them he was unfailingly polite. In the midst of the busy diner she couldn't really hear his sub harmonics, particularly as he tended to be very quiet; but the females soon backed off. They must have, like she had, heard the note of loss he was carrying. He wasn't keening; but it was a near thing; and something most Turians would respect.

She did note, in passing that Garet had put his coat on again. The Citadel was on the cool side for a Turian but not that coolish; so she wondered if he was hiding from something or someone.

The diner rarely, if ever, got dextro meat or foodstuffs from Palaven these days; but they had an excellent supply of both dextro fruit and vegetables, and fish. Anceli, one of their neighbors, had managed to set up a hydroponic farm and she grew vegetables, fruit, and the fish. The fish and the plants supplemented each other making an almost self-contained system. And wonder of wonders, she'd managed to get a second small hydroponic set up running that only produced _Khaal_. In a year or so, she was going to start selling off her extra. Given that Palaven grown _Khaal_ was almost non-existent, she looked to make a good amount of credits. A couple of human farmers were beginning to follow her lead with hard to procure levo foodstuffs.

Needless to say, all the Turians were curious about Garet; but since they wouldn't bother him – they were pestering Dasken.

"I know as much as you do, Ezene." She told one ex-soldier as she refilled her cup.

"You mean…." The woman looked around cautiously first. "Paty hasn't gotten his whole history out of him, yet?"

Paty's nosiness was the most unkept secret in town.

"No, he's been keeping to himself and he's just formidable enough that Paty hasn't quite gotten up the courage to interrogate him."

"I give it a week." Ezene retorted and they all chuckled.

As Dasken headed back behind the counter, she noticed that Miss Tannefeld was watching Jorge and Garet from the booth where she and Rose had settled near the far door. Jorge had quickly agreed upon a price with her. Nobody really liked to argue with Miss Tannenfeld, not even the non-humans.

Dasken truly liked the older human teacher. She was intelligent, extremely observant, had a dry sense of humor, and treated everyone the same no matter what species you were. Also she could put any of the customers of the Citadel in their place with a single cool glance. Even Moras, and the Advek brothers behaved around her. Then again she'd been the grade school teacher for most all of the kids in Tesken at one time or another.

She also had a good heart, as the humans said. When Dasken had lost Jostel, she had lost her way for a time, almost her will to continue. Tannenfeld had made her come stay with her and was there to listen and comfort; something not many would have done. Not even her own kind.

Dasken shook herself out of those morose thoughts as Jorge, after saying something to Garet, got up and walked over to Miss Tannenfeld and Rose.

"Miss Tannenfeld, I'm going to have Garet there.." He indicated the Turian who was sitting at the counter. "..bring out the cooler and install it today."

Miss Tannenfeld cocked her head, almost like a Turian. "Garet? That's his name?"

"Yes. Garet Vakan, he just arrived in town last night."

"He's gonna be a handyman for Dasken and Anna and help out Jorge." Paty explained as she bustled past to fill some customer's empty cup.

"I see."

About then Dasken came out of the back area.

"Miss Tannenfeld, Rich says your chicken is done; but it needs to cool down a bit."

"Jorge, why don't I show the young man where to put the cooling unit, while Rose waits for the chicken. Miss Tannenfeld spoke up.

She paused and glanced at the young woman. "If you don't mind, dear?"

Rose shook her head and smiled. "Not at all, ma'am."

Dasken knew that Rose loved to sit and talk with Ezene and the other soldiers. She wondered if the young woman was thinking of joining the Alliance. Spirit's knew, the human organization had been as decimated as the Turian military.

Then there was Commander Shepard. A lot of young women, even among the Turians, aspired to be her now. Dasken didn't think they could though. Every now and again a soldier came along who was something extraordinary – Shepard had been one such. They'd not see her like for decades to come.

Garet excused himself and left; no doubt to get the cooling unit for Miss Tannenfeld.

 **Tannenfeld**

Cheryl Tannenfeld said her good byes to all her friends. Didn't matter the species. Since the war they'd all become even closer as they fought to reestablish Tesken and their lives.

Rose was ensconced among the Ex-soldiers, avidly listening to their tales. Cheryl figured that the young girl, daughter of a friend who hadn't survived the war, would join the Alliance in a couple of years, as soon as she was old enough.

She would miss the youngster; but she would not stand in her way. She'd learned long ago that keeping a youngster from what they truly wanted to do, only fostered resentment and/or rebellion.

Laughing at something Paty had said, she went outside to wait for Jorge's new helper, only to find he was already there. Standing next to the steps with a hoover-dolly carrying the cooling unit.

It looked rather like a kid's first robotic construct – bits and pieces kludged together; but if Jorge was willing to part with it then she knew it was working pretty well.

"Do you need help?" His voice was deep and rich with just a trace of a rasp. Then again she'd always loved the timbre of Turian voices. Obviously he'd seen that she wasn't as steady on her feet as she would like.

"Are you inferring that I'm decrepit, young man?" She was half serious and half teasing him.

His mandibles moved out slightly in what she knew was a smile.

"That would be most impolite of me." He retorted and she could just pick up a slight tease in his sub harmonics.

That surprised a laugh out of her and a bigger smile out of him. She decided then and there that she liked this Garet. Not that she didn't like the other Turians in town but most were not used to working along side humans and it made them a touch more brusque than they might be. Though they had mellowed over the past two years as they all worked together.

Garet, on the other hand, seemed to know effortlessly how to deal with humans on their level. It made her think that he'd worked with humans for quite some time.

He stepped closer to the stairs and offered her his arm. She placed a hand upon it and came down the steps. Another sign he knew humans; many would have pushed into her space and tried to shoulder all her weight – he let her pick how much help she wanted.

When she got to the bottom, she glanced up at him. For the first time seeing under his hood to his ice blue eyes, blue colony marks, and the heavy scars on the right side of his face.

Scars and blue, that rang a bell – why did that make her think she should know him.

"Thank you." She smiled, hiding her slight confusion.

He gave a brief nod in acknowledgement. She pointed to the nearby roadway and they headed down it. Fortunately she didn't live too far from the diner, nor from most parts of Tesken. It was a rather compact little town.

"Are you passing through or do you plan to stay?' She asked as they walked. The sun was out now, having burned through the planet's cloudy skies. This time of year it was usually overcast most of the day. If you had any depressed or despondent thoughts or attitudes it was not the place for you.

"I plan to stay for a little while." He said after looking off to the side for a bit. Then she saw his head cock and he looked around them very carefully. Studying and analyzing she realized. Noting how the buildings were built and aligned with each other. Most everything in Tesken, except the new construction, was the same, near soil color. From the air it was almost impossible to spot the buildings, between their color and the vegetation.

"Yes." She answered his unspoken question. "It was, most likely, at sometime a mercenary base."

He glanced down at her and again she felt she should know him.

"Who took them out?"

"No one knows." She admitted. "It was found deserted when the first settlers arrived."

"Signs of battle."

"No, not really." She told him. His forehead plates lowered and his mandibles pulled tighter to his face – he was frowning.

"And yes, we know that's not a good sign." She went on.

"Particularly not if anyone who knew of this base has survived." He returned coldly.

The older inhabitants had a long running argument with their mayor about that. That they needed to be prepared for the mercenaries to come back at some time. He felt that the Reapers had taken care of that; they felt that they shouldn't trust to hope and be prepared for the worst.

Before she could express some very uncharitable thoughts about the man, idiot that he was, – they arrived at her place. Like all the other, older buildings, it was built of native stone and other materials. In the Adobe style she'd read about from earth's pioneer days. Corners were rounded to blunt the force of the winter winds; and the walls and roof were fairly thick. The doors and shutters were also thick, and he nodded at them as she took him around to the back.

She'd have gone through the house but the dolly wouldn't fit.

She let them into the small back patio – enclosed with floor to ceiling panels. Transparent on top to let in the sun and keep out the weather and a solid wall from about shoulder height down.

The mayor not withstanding, she kept her place locked when she wasn't home. Not only because of the lingering fear of returning mercenaries but because Tesertus was beginning to attract people. Most were good, honest people looking to start anew; but she knew that all of them couldn't be and planned accordingly.

She showed him where she'd wanted the cooling unit. Just across from the cooking unit. A small dinky thing that necessitated using the Citadel's bigger oven if she wanted to have more than a snack.

He glanced down at it and she saw his mandibles move in – amazement or amusement she couldn't tell.

"It would appear.." He was very serious. "That you also need a cooking unit." Then she sensed the tone of his sub harmonics. He was distinctly amused by her kitchen. She just glowered at him. Not seriously angry but enjoying being able to joke with someone. Rose was sweet but she was an adolescent; which meant she alternated between being very serious and seriously flighty.

"It works." She returned.

"Always a good thing." He tossed over his shoulder as he started to clear out the space she'd indicated. He moved everything that needed to be moved. Even a few extra things that she'd been wanting shifted for some time. All without fuss or protestation. He was obviously used to hard work. Then after asking her for a magnetic broom – he carefully swept the area – getting up whatever loose dust there might have been.

"Do you do windows?" She asked with some amusement and got a very puzzled look out of him.

"Doing windows used to be something extra for house cleaners." She explained. "So asking if you do windows means that you're doing a good job."

His mandibles moved out and back in what she recognized as a smile. He tended, she noticed, to not be very talkative.

Excusing herself she went inside. There was a small pantry where she kept her non-perishable supplies, including tins of coffee, cocoa, tea, and _Khaal_. She also had an automated pot for heating water. She filled it and set it to brew. She wanted some tea and she was fairly sure that Garet wouldn't mind some Khaal.

While she was there, she looked over at Rose's 'hero' board. During and after the war, the girl had searched out every picture she could find of Shepard and all her various crewmembers. The big Marine – Vega – she thought his name was. The Asari – a Dr. T-Soni. A Quarian Admiral – imagine that. Cheryl had never really met a Quarian though she'd heard a lot about them. Before the war, most of it was negative, during and after the war – attitudes had changed. There had even been a Krogan. Smaller than most; but from what she'd picked up - a fierce fighter. He was called, of all things, Grunt

An Alliance officer – a Kaidan Alenko. Cheryl chuckled at that – Rose had crushed on him quite a bit. If he ever showed up here – not likely – she'd probably faint.

And looming in the back of almost all the pictures of Shepard – the Turian. Vakarian she thought his name was. She'd also heard the rumors that Shepard and the Turian were more than just crewmates. If so, she wished them luck and happiness. After all they had done and gone through – they deserved it.

A stray beam of sunlight hit the board – illuminating one of the newest pictures. One that had focused on the Turian sniper. Silver and blue, battle scared, heavy armor, giant black rifle cradled effortlessly in his hands, blue visor, and… Her mind came to a screeching halt. Blue colony marks interrupted by heavy scarring on the right side of his face, and the one eye that showed was an ice blue.

She just kept staring at the photo. But instead of resolving itself into a picture of a stranger – more and more it began to resemble the man installing her cooling unit.

 **Garet/Garrus**

Garrus tightened the last bolt on the cooling unit, very carefully and plugged it in. With a wheeze, a whirr, and a slightly alarming rattle – it started up. After a moment the rattle died away as did the wheeze, leaving only the soft whirr of a working compressor. Thank the Spirits the thing worked but he knew the various parts could still stage a rebellion. He chuffed in amusement, this made fixing the MAKO a breeze. He watched awhile longer as the sound of the compressor seemed to even out and become quieter. A very good sign.

With a sigh, he got to his feet. Feeling all the various aches and pains left over from the war. He was going to need to start exercising in earnest.

Just then he heard the door open behind him and he turned. Miss Tannenfeld stepped outside, a tray in her hands that held a pot of what he recognized from the smell as tea – Earl Grey, he thought and a pot of _Khaal_. He grinned at that. He hadn't been able to get _Khaal_ this frequently in quite some time.

Then he focused on her face and his gizzard clenched. The way she was studying him – she knew – he'd bet his rifle on it. Damn, and he'd hoped to stay here for a time. Resting, out of sight and out of mind, using a phrase he'd once heard.

She put the tray down and then looked up at him. There was none of the elation or adulation he'd seen on other faces when they guessed his secret. She seemed only to be puzzled and, somehow, concerned.

"Why are you here, Mr. Vakarian?" She asked quietly, handing him his _Khaal_.


	6. Chapter 6 - Spinning Up

_Hello All. Happy Mid of the Week. I hope that life is treating you all well. Thank you to all who have commented, faved, or followed, you make this very worthwhile. Disclaimer here - this wondrous Universe and characters belong to Bioware. I'm just playing with it._

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Spinning Up

 **Shepard**

After a few more moments of allowing herself to be a weepy idiot, she got control. She went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face until the red around her eyes was mostly gone. She didn't plan on answering any questions about what had gone on up here, particularly from Alenko. She double-checked her hair and her uniform in the mirror. Not perfect, but she'd pass.

When she came out of the bathroom, she spied the HH shirt, crumpled on the bed. For the briefest of moments she was tempted to toss it down the rubbish chute; but then all those memories of him surfaced and she knew she couldn't. Whatever was going on now didn't negate their past together. She carefully folded the shirt up and hid it under her spare pillow. She didn't think anyone was snooping through her room; but wasn't going to take a chance.

 **Hackett**

Everyone had settled at the conference table, which looked suspiciously, to Hackett, like someone had 'liberated' it out of some businessman's office. Too modern and metal for a military ship. He knew that the Alliance Supply Officers had had to get extremely creative since the war, so he just pretended not to notice.

For several minutes they just stared at each other. Hackett wasn't going to begin without Shepard being there, since it was her future they were discussing.

"We need to set up an itinerary for Shepard." Renfield had no compunctions about that. "She can still do tours…"

"Shepard will only do tours if she wants to, when she wants to." Hackett shut him down before he could get up to speed. "Right now, we need, as she pointed out, to focus on the practical. Supplies, experts, evacuations, and chasing down raiders and pirates."

"Shepard is incapable of leading a ground team." Renfield exclaimed.

"I know I can't do field missions…at the moment." Came Shepard's stern voice as she came in the door. "Doesn't mean I can't send down a ground team and coordinate from the Normandy."

As she settled into a seat, Hackett noted that she had put herself several seats away from Alenko and Renfield. The Biotic looked put out at that. Hackett also noted that her face seemed a bit damp and her eyes just faintly red and he wondered what that was about.

"How do you want to build a crew, Commander?" Hackett asked before Renfield could do or say something stupid. He was beginning to think that Shepard had been right about Renfield's misogyny.

"I want as many of my old crew back as I can get and who want to come back." She said calmly.

"I assume you mean James Vega?" That was Renfield. "He's an N7 now."

"Yes." Shepard's voice took on an edge. "And I need tough seasoned fighters if we're going after any of Aria's mercs."

"Should never have let them join the Earth forces." Renfield spat out.

"We needed every single ship and body we could get." Shepard said coldly. "And if that ship or that body was merc – who cared as long as they were willing to fight the Reapers and their forces."

"And look where dealing with criminals got us?" Renfield sneered. Hackett could see Shepard flare up like a sun going Nova.

"Enough." Hackett intervened before a fight could start. It was obvious that Shepard had been pushed to the edge and it wouldn't take much to set her off. He didn't blame her but he had to stay in control. He outranked Renfield; but if the other man could convince several of the surviving Alliance brass that Shepard was mentally unstable – he might be overruled.

"I'll see to it that Vega is reassigned here." He told Shepard and she nodded in thanks.

"Anyone else?"

"Jeff Moreau, Steve Cortez, Engineers Adams, Donnelli, and Daniels. Dr. Karen Chakwas if she can be spared." She paused for a moment. "Liara T'Soni and Garrus Vakarian."

"This is an Alliance ship, Commander." Renfield exclaimed. "We don't need any outside help."

The look she turned on the Admiral was pitying. "And without that outside help we'd all be dead in one way or another, Admiral Renfield."

"What about me, Commander?" Alenko spoke up, sounding a bit upset.

She glanced at him. "I figured you'd be onboard as a condition of my getting the Normandy back." Her voice was neutral and Hackett could tell that the biotic didn't know what to make of that.

"I want the Major as Executive Officer." Renfield proclaimed.

"Fine by me." Shepard shrugged. "As long as he answers to me first. I won't be second guessed on my own ship anymore."

"This is an Alliance ship…"

"Admiral, that is enough." Hackett said firmly. "This is the Commander's ship and she can pick anyone, within reason, for her crew. As long as they pass security checks."

He went on. "And if she wants a multi-species crew that's fine. It won't hurt to show cooperation between the species. As the Commander says – without that help none of us would be here."

Hackett could tell that Renfield was ready to explode. Marc had been pushing a humans first agenda for as long as Hackett had known him. Before the war, it was mostly ignored; but now that so many were dead and Earth had to get back on her feet – a lot more were listening to him. Unfortunately.

The meeting devolved into the figurative nuts and bolts of getting the Normandy back in service. Crew, supplies, repairs, and all the myriad things it took to bring an Alliance ship up to speed.

After an hour or so of hashing things out, everyone was mostly satisfied or, at least, knew what was happening or going to happen.

"Commander." Renfield stood up. "I want reports every day."

Shepard had been calm for the last hour; but Hackett wasn't surprised to see her lips disappear in a straight bloodless line, and the flicker of cold anger in her eyes.

"Marc, the Commander is no longer directly under your jurisdiction." Again Hackett intervened.

"But…" Renfield sputtered.

"No. The Normandy is being brought back on active duty so she'll be answering to me." Hackett's tone left no room for the other man to protest.

With a barely unintelligible curse, Renfield swept from the room. Guards at his back.

"You'd best go get your kit and get aboard, Major." Hackett stared at the biotic.

Obviously wanting to talk to Shepard; but just as obviously not wanting to go against Hackett's orders – Alenko nodded, saluted sharply and left.

"Why does that make me feel so damn old." Hackett slumped back in his chair.

After a moment of silence, Shepard glanced up at him and smirked ever so slightly. "You're not old sir, you're experienced."

He gave her the dourest look he could manage and wonder of wonders the woman actually let out a small chuckle.

He let her enjoy her small joke. In truth, he was amused also. He'd take being called experienced over being called old.

"Be honest with me, Shepard." Hackett straightened up, getting serious. "Can you do this?" At her look. "Not the physical, I know you've accepted what you can or can't do; but the mental? You nearly bit Renfield's head off a couple of times."

She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "That obvious?"

He nodded.

"I'm sorry Admiral. I'm just sick and tired of being treated like I don't know what I'm doing. During the war, nobody really seriously wanted to take charge, they just let me about run this whole show on my own and now they want to deal with me like I'm some puppet."

"I'm afraid that comes with the rank." He gestured at his shoulder. "We aren't in the field so some of us think that we have to flex our muscles somehow."

She scowled at that and it was his turn to chuckle.

"Wait until you're an Admiral."

She blanched at that and made a warding sigh with her hands. "Please no."

He laughed some more. Amused at her reaction and glad she was focusing on something other than her anger. He wasn't Anderson, who'd always been able to read her and redirect her when she needed it; but he felt he owed it to her and to Anderson to watch over her. As much as she'd let him or anyone else.


	7. Chapter 7 - Bedrock

_Greetings Good Readers. I hope your weekend is going well and that, depending on where you are, you're staying dry or warm or both. I'm having fun writing this story and making it different and yet in some ways linking it to the universe of Perspective. Thank you to everyone who's enjoying this. You make my day._

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Bedrock

 **Tannenfeld**

Cheryl had been a young woman at the time of the First Contact War and she vividly remembered all the propaganda lines they'd used on the public. The one that had always stuck with her was – 'Stone Faces, stone hearts'. It'd been used to convince everyone just how cold and unfeeling the supposed Turian aggressors were.

Whoever had coined it had never looked into the eyes of a Turian, not in combat mode.

Vakarian or Vakan or whatever he was calling himself didn't look elated or embarrassed or even surprised at her recognizing him. He just looked exhausted and resigned for an instant before his face locked down, revealing less than granite bedrock.

He came to his feet and it was brought home to her just how very tall Turians were; and that the man she was facing had been a front line soldier in the Reaper War. Despite all that, she really wasn't afraid of him. Nothing in his manner said that he meant her any harm.

"Vakarian? No, my names Vakan." He turned and put his tools away in his belt pouch. "I'll let Jorge know that your unit is installed."

Still without looking at her, he turned to go; and she knew if she let him leave that he'd be gone from the planet before sunrise tomorrow.

Stepping forward, she gently put a hand on his arm. He jerked around, startled by her touch.

"Come with me. Please." She wouldn't/couldn't order him; but she could ask.

Maybe it was her calmness or maybe it was her saying please; but after a moment he gave a faint hum and hesitantly followed when she slipped into the house.

He wasn't awkward or oblivious; but the house was set up for two small human women – not a moderately large Turian male.

Despite the seriousness of it all, she had to keep from chuckling as he oh so carefully inched his way past her bookshelves and her furniture.

"Sorry." Was all she said, as she led the way to another patio on the far side of the house.

It had been set aside for reading, learning, or in Rose's case, doing homework. A couple of battered old chairs, small tables next to them, lights on each of the tables; and one larger table cluttered with papers and books, located under a ceiling light. Cupboards on the walls cluttered with stuff. Pin boards covered with all sorts of drawings and artwork, from crude to master level.

Like the other patio it was blocked off from the outside by walls that were partially clear, but mostly solid.

In the brightest corner sat a medium sized terrarium. She hit a button as she came in and the shade field over the tank rolled back.

After a moment, several surprisingly deep booms echoed out of the tank, followed by grunts, chirps, and scrabbling sounds.

His head snapped over at that and he instantly stepped over to the tank. Several more booms greeted him and he was suddenly the focus of three sets of beady gold-flecked purple eyes.

"Chipeeks." He exclaimed, carefully putting a taloned finger up to the glass. That instantly set off a series of thrumming booms from the inhabitants as they stared at him expectantly, mouths gaping.

"Yes. That's Godzilla, T-Rex, and Fred." She gave a soft laugh as she pulled a small box out of a cupboard.

"Fred?" His eyebrow plates lifted as he looked back at her.

"Rose thought he looked like a Fred." She explained as she walked over. "And I have no idea why."

She took a handful of dried stuff out of a container and put it into a special area on top of the tank. She closed the lid and then hit another button and the particles drifted into the tank.

It was an instant scrum as the three lizards dove for what was obviously food.

Booming, snarling, and grunting they chased down every little bit, even standing on each other to get it.

She very gently tapped on the glass wall of the terrarium. "Behave you three, we have company."

"I doubt they'll listen." He commented dryly.

"I know; but it doesn't hurt to try." She gave a faint chuckle. "And they're actually better behaved than some teenage boys I've had to deal with."

That garnered a faint chuff of laughter from him.

"Mr…" She paused then went on. "Vakan. I have no intention of causing you any kind of trouble."

His mandibles slapped tight to his jaw. "No one ever does." He shot back and she could literally feel his anger and frustration. It made her wonder how many times he'd been discovered and how many times he'd slipped away before anyone could draw attention to him.

She didn't know why he was here or why he seemed to be hiding; but she wasn't about to expose him.

"I'm not a groupie." That term seemed to puzzle him.

"Rabid fan." She went on to explain and he gave a faint nod, still wearing, if she was reading him right, a disbelieving /distrusting look.

"I will say nothing to anyone."

"And what will that cost me?" He snapped angrily. That told her that at least one person had tried to, in essence, blackmail him. Anyone who did so had to be insane. This man would not tolerate that kind of behavior.

"Nothing." She returned calmly, not reacting to his obvious anger.

He stared down at her and she returned his stare. Not afraid, or angry, or challenging in any way, having remembered what Dasken had once told her about Turians and their dominance stare downs.

For several long minutes their eyes were locked then finally he sighed and she could see the tension bleed out of his body.

She blinked, giving way to his alpha stature without dropping her eyes. It was the Turian version of a draw. Yes, she came off slightly less dominant; but she wasn't out to be an alpha – she just wanted to gain his trust.

"Dasken?" He asked after a moment.

"Yes, she stayed with me for a time after her mate was killed." She explained. "I'd get her talking about anything and everything to keep her mind off her loss."

"Wise."

She motioned him to one of the chairs as she took the other.

Now finally she could sip her tea; as he took a moment to take a drink of _Khaal_. Despite it probably being somewhat cool, he still sighed faintly.

"Why do you have Chipeeks?" He set the cup down. It wasn't what she wanted to talk about or thought he might need to talk about; but she'd let him steer this conversation.

"A Turian couple that lived in town, worked on freighters. Said they found them in the rubbish pile of some spaceport so they brought them home. They were just little guys then." Here she paused and looked away. "When the war hit, the couple went home to help protect Palaven."

"Killed?"

"We don't know. We haven't heard anything since communications were interrupted; but…' She trailed off and he nodded. "Somehow I ended up taking care of them."

"They look.." He was interrupted as there was a series of booms and chirps and he had to smile."…and sound good."

"Dasken brings me dextro scraps from the diner, so along with dry food they get the real thing." She told him.

"They're lucky to have such a good care taker. Most levos don't know how to deal with them." He said.

She shrugged. "Without Dasken's help, they and I would be in big trouble. She tells me what they should have and when they should have it. Apparently their diet is very seasonally dependent on what's growing in around them."

He gave a nod, then got a far away look in his eyes. "My sister and I used to go out into the wilderness area and watch the colonies." Abruptly his mandibles snapped tight to his face, realizing he'd let slip something about his past, and he turned to face her.

She stayed calm, keeping her features neutral as he glared at her. In truth, she didn't feel smug or proud or excited. She was curious, oh my yes, she desperately wanted to know why one of the Normandy's crew was out here incognito; but unless he volunteered a reason she was not going to pry.

"Why.." He paused and she could just barely sense him calming down. "..would you not tell anyone who I am. There are reporters who would pay good credits for that intel."

She snorted. "I don't deal with vultures."

"There are others who would also like to know where I am." He went on, his voice somehow colder. She wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that. The Hierarchy? the Alliance? Then she remembered that he'd been in Citadel Security at one time. Perhaps some criminal he'd arrested.

"Your being here is no one's business but your own." She replied.

He fixed those predatory ice blue eyes on her and she instantly knew he was trying to decide if he could or should trust her. She also knew that there was absolutely nothing she could say or do to convince him. If she tried, he would most likely assume she was lying and be gone before tomorrow.

After a long time of studying her, he finally sighed and looked at the floor.

"All right, for now, I'll believe you." His voice was quiet.

"Thank you for your trust." She said.

"I don't fully trust you." He was blunt. "But I'm tired of moving from place to place."

She nodded, neither surprised nor insulted.

"More _Khaal_?" She motioned to his cup.

Again he eyed her, then he nodded and handed over his cup.

She went into the living room and made them each a fresh cup.

When she got back to the patio, he'd walked over to the terrarium again and was watching the Chipeeks stalk around and mock posture at one another.

"You can pick them up if you want." She set his cup down on the table near his seat. "I don't usually because they're too fast and a little too sharp of tooth and claw for my delicate human skin."

He gave a faint laugh. "They can bite pretty hard."

"Plus I'm a levo. Not sure if my blood would be toxic to them."

That actually brought him up short. "I've never given the different chirality thing any thought."

"I know that many humans do keep them as pets so it's probably not that much a problem."

"Still good…" He'd carefully opened the access port of the tank and had grabbed Fred, who tended to think that anytime the hatch was open it meant food. "..to think about it."

Fred wiggled and boomed at him but after a moment stopped struggling to settle comfortably in his hands, actually rubbing his chin against his finger. He'd removed his gloves to work on the cooler.

"Bet he likes your warmth." Garet smiled at that.

One long taloned finger was stroked down the back of his head along his spine. Fred seemed to really like that and began giving off the oddest sound she'd ever heard from him.

"What on earth." She exclaimed at the faint punctuated booming he was putting out, then it dawned. "Is he trying to purr? Do Chipeeks purr?"

Even the Turian was staring at the lizard in his hands. "No. So I have no idea why he's doing this or where he learned to do it."

After a moment she chuckled. "Trust Fred to be one of a kind."

That coaxed a full on laugh out of him. Carefully he put Fred back into the terrarium and closed the hatch.

Fred the unique proceeded to try and strut his way down the branch he'd landed on, only to fall off into the water dish.

"A very clumsy one of a kind." She sighed and shook her head.

Again there was the faint chuff of amusement from the Turian.

Vakarian – no she corrected herself mentally – Vakan turned to face her. She had to forget that she knew his real name or she might just, inadvertently, let it slip.

 **Garrus**

"How did you know it was me?" He asked, curious because most humans couldn't easily discern between Turians.

"I'm an art teacher." She explained, motioning to the drawings on the walls. "I tend to look at people's faces and bone structures and not pay so much attention to what they call themselves."

He nodded. That actually made her recognizing him a little more palatable. Without sitting, he picked up his _Khaal_ and quickly drained the cup.

"I best get back to the diner."

She put her cup down and led the way into the house. He was still extremely cautious, everything was so delicate looking and so close together; but this time he was more aware of the interior.

"What in the name of the Spirits is that?" He stopped and was pointing to a large piece of cardboard covered with pictures of Shepard and the ground crew.

"Oh, that's Rose's 'hero' board."

"Hero board?" He stepped over, cautiously, to look at it.

"During and after the war, Rose was one of the Normandy's biggest fans. She hunted down all the photos and stories of the Normandy crew she could find. She made this board up of all her heroes."

He groaned suddenly. "Crap, I thought that article hadn't gotten very far." He was pointing a finger at the almost full-page picture of himself.

"Rose hunted everywhere for that one when she heard about it. Big picture and even bigger article."

He snorted. "The article is one third false, one third over exaggerated, and one third sort of true. Al Jilani never lets a little thing like the truth get in her way. Since she wasn't fond of Shepard or me, or really any of the ground crew."

"I thought some of those tales she told were a bit wild." She commented.

"Funny thing, the wildest tales are the most correct." He told her. Very glad that the reporter hadn't uncovered anything of his time as Archangel. He shuddered to think what kind of fantasy she'd create out of that. Though he had to admit, the idea of Al Jilani coming up against Aria was something he'd almost pay to see. He'd bet on the 'Queen of Omega' any time.

"We best get you out of here before Rose gets home." Miss Tannenfeld carefully picked up the board and slipped it into a spot between two blank canvases. Now that she'd brought up being an art teacher, he realized how much in the way of art supplies were spread through the house. Maybe, if he stayed, he'd could get something in the way of art lessons from her.

"She's been studying that picture pretty closely and she just might figure you out." She was honest.

Still moving very gingerly he finally got outside the main area of the house without knocking anything over or getting his spurs hung up on something.

He sighed as he went to put up the magna-broom and put back everything he'd had to move to get the cooling unit installed.

He opened the door of the small unit and was pleased when a gust of cold air came out. He closed it quickly, Tersertus was cold enough without standing in front of a cooling unit.

"It's cooling down quickly." He told Tannenfeld. "By the time Rose gets here with the chicken it should be good."

"Thank you." She smiled up at him. "You do excellent work."

That old sense that C-Sec had created and honed, had reawakened and it was telling him that he could trust her. The newer, paranoid sense that Omega and the war has spawned was calling him a fool and predicting that she would betray him.

Tired of running and hiding, he decided to go with C-Sec and ignored Archangel's cold assessment.


	8. Chapter 8 - Finding Your Stride

_Surprise, I actually managed to get chapters up for two different stories in one week. Yeah me. LOL Sorry, feeling a bit silly tonight. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Many thanks for all your kindnesses - favs, follows, and comments. You make writing worthwhile._

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Finding Your Stride

 **Shepard**

Shepard fretted for the two weeks it took to finish the Normandy's refit and to get her restocked and refueled. With the Normandy once again under her feet Shepard wanted to be out doing not sitting around waiting for crates of bed linens to arrive.

But she bit down on her impatience and used that time to track down any and all of her old crew that she thought might want to come back.

Chakwas was iffy. Tied up in dealing with all those who were still recovering from the war. She was interested in coming back but her patients took precedence. Shepard had known it could go either way with the older woman so she was willing to wait, though she did ask Chakwas to recommend a replacement in the meantime. Even just ferrying supplies could be dangerous and she'd be damned if one of her crew got seriously hurt now after the Reapers were gone.

Daniels, Donnelly, and Adams leaped at the chance to come back. They missed Tali; but Shepard knew that her friend was busy with her people and wasn't going to try to drag her away; though she'd probably, at least ask, just so Tali wouldn't threaten her with a shotgun for being a _bosh'tet_ and not asking.

Liara was busy being the Shadow Broker and oddly enough, now more than ever, the galaxy needed information to start rebuilding. So she wouldn't be asking the Asari – though she would use her for information – no doubt about it.

At the moment her ground team only consisted of the yet to arrive Vega and Alenko; but she was going to need more than just those two. She needed another biotic; Alenko still got migraines that would take him out of the fighting. Also another massive all round fighter like Vega. Too bad she couldn't get ahold of Grunt. The Tank Born had grown into his legacy and was now one of Clan Urdnots best; but he was of Clan Urdnot and Shepard would not take away one of Wrex's best fighters.

So she kept an eye out as she went about the business of getting the Normandy air borne.

She'd gone down to the temporary quarters C-Sec had set up to ask about getting some guards for the Normandy's off ship storage area, the cargo hold still being worked on. The Alliance guards were stretched thin and she didn't want to tie them up guarding crates even if these crates contained important supplies. She was also fairly sure that she'd spotted a couple of people casing the security around the supplies and she wasn't going to wait until something happened to ask for more help.

Orson had squawked about that, saying they should be using Alliance people. Shepard had acknowledged his point and then proceeded to not listen to him. Man was worse than Alenko in some ways. She was fairly sure that he only thought and saw in Alliance Blue. Now that the Reapers were gone, there was a whole galaxy of colors to explore; but Orson would never see beyond that one shade of blue; and she had to feel sorry for him.

She wasn't sure if C-Sec had any guards to spare but she was, at least, going to try. She'd learned that C-Sec, besides helping the planet side authorities of the different races, was also leading the way in dealing with the remains of the Citadel. They were going up daily to look for provisions – mostly Dextro based to supplement what the Quarian live ships were providing. They were also doing recovery work up there. Many times there wasn't enough left of someone to put into a shoe box; but they could, at least, get enough for a DNA scan. It wouldn't bring back the millions who had died, but it might bring someone closure. It was dangerous, dirty, heart breaking work and she didn't envy them that job.

When she got to the warehouse building that C-Sec had taken over, she found Bailey in charge. Older, more world weary, bearing scars ( _like so many others_ ).

When he saw her, he grimaced. "Please tell me you're not here as a preface to blowing something up, Commander? I'm still picking pieces of the last explosion out of my hair – what's left of it." He ran his hand through the fuzz covering his slightly sun burned pate.

She laughed; ignoring Orson's exclamation at what he probably thought was Bailey's less than reverent attitude. Her aide had insisted on driving her to C-Sec; and she'd about had enough of his ' _coddling_ ' her.

"No. But I can go find a couple of grenades for old times sake?" She shot back and he groaned.

"Don't go out of your way." He told her and they both laughed.

He took her back to his office. Basically what looked like a broom closet with a stained old blanket for a door.

"So." He sat down at a battered old desk and waved her to the chair in front of it. "What can I do for the Savior of the Galaxy."

It was her turn to groan. "Please no. I'm just a soldier – one of the many who helped win."

Bailey's look told her that he didn't believe that for a minute; but he let her have it her way.

"You know the Normandy's been refitted and is getting ready to go out again." She said and he nodded.

"Dog and Pony shows?" Shepard didn't miss the faint scowl that crossed his face at that.

"No. Doing what she was created to do – serve the galaxy." She told him. "If that means ferrying cargo then that's what we do." Here she got serious, "if it means going after the pirates that are attacking the supply lines or outlying colonies – then we do that."

"Good. Beginning to get too many reports of missing supply trucks or stockpiles." It was his turn to grow serious "Or missing people from small outposts."

She scowled at that. _Figures, if the pirates were once more active that the slavers would start up too_.

"So how can I help, Commander?"

"Our cargo hold isn't quite finished yet and we've been keeping our supplies in a secure area near the dock."

"That secure area not looking so secure?" Bailey asked shrewdly.

She nodded. "Spotted a couple of seedy looking types checking out the security patrols yesterday. A couple of humans and a Salarian."

"You want to borrow a few officers to help with security?"

"If you can spare them; but not if it will hamper your efforts." Shepard was honest with Bailey.

He shook his head. "I've got a few who need a break from working on the Citadel. I try and rotate as often as I can, but we aren't that many." He stood up and motioned for her to go ahead.

Having seen C-Sec at it's best she had to agree. What was gathered here, dressed in bits and pieces of C-Sec uniforms and armor was barely a shadow of what it had once been. Unbidden she was hit with the memory of an over eager officer in C-Sec armor introducing himself. Garrus. With a gulp she forced the memory to the back of her mind and concentrated on walking over the cracked and devoted floor.

Bailey led her back outside where Orson was, apparently, staring at the various grubby looking C-Sec people. Where Orson saw people to look down on – she saw purpose and concern. She'd take that over a clean uniform any day of the week.

Bailey walked off to check with one of his people and she settled against a desk to take the weight off her legs and knees. Well, really it was just a folding table covered with computers and precarious stacks of file folders.

As she was standing there.

"Commander?" Came a raspy voice that she recognized.

She turned quickly and smiled.

"Kolyat." The Drell was actually wearing a battered C-Sec tunic, and carrying a set of pistols she thought might have been Thanes. "You made it." She hadn't known if the young man had escaped before the Reapers seized the Citadel.

"It was.." He paused and she was fairly sure he was suppressing his eidetic memory. "..a near thing."

If she didn't think he'd be uncomfortable about such things, Shepard would have hugged him. After all they'd gone through to keep him from following in his father's footsteps, it was good to see him both alive and obviously trying to do good.

Looking at the young man, she could see that he'd matured some in the last two years. Anyone who hadn't was either dead or oblivious to reality. Now he more resembled his father, though his color was still tended towards a teal green than Thane's jade green.

"Oh." Bailey had come back. "I see you found Kolyat. He's one of the people I was going to suggest for sentry duty."

"I'll take him, and who ever else you have. The off duty guards can sleep in the Normandy – Stars knows we've got lots of room. It will be only MREs to eat, but we can offer hot showers."

Bailey laughed at that. "Hell, half this room would probably mug a Thresher Maw for a hot shower."

"I believe it would be more than half, Commander Bailey." Kolyat said solemnly, but Shepard caught the hint of a smile on his face.

"Sounds like you need to build a crew." Bailey handed her a slightly bent and scorched datapad that actually still worked, with a short list of names.

"Yeah, more than half my old crew is busy with their own reconstruction – be it family, town, or planet." She quickly read the list and nodded at the man.

Bailey paused and ran a hand through his thinning hair like he was considering something.

"What about Kolyat here?" He said finally.

Shepard straightened up at that, and the young Drell looked surprised.

"But you don't have enough people."

"No, I don't, but I also hate seeing someone's life go to waste." Bailey told her. "Kolyat has been going up to the Citadel and scrounging for supplies and digging for bodies for over a year. If he's trying to atone for something then he's done it as far as I'm concerned."

Shepard turned to look at Thane's son. "Kolyat, do you want to come aboard the Normandy as crew? We're going to be ferrying supplies and people to where they're needed." She got serious. "But I'm not going to lie to you – we'll also be hunting down pirates and slavers so there's going to be fighting and killing."

Kolyat studied both her and Bailey and like his father she couldn't really tell what he was thinking. After a time he blinked those big black eyes.

"I am not that great a warrior, Commander." He admitted. That got a snort of disagreement out of Bailey.

"We can train you – if you want this?"

Kolyat would be an excellent addition to her ground team but she wasn't going to force the youngster. Out of respect for Thane and because she knew that reluctant soldiers were rarely good soldiers. She knew he didn't have even a fraction of his father's training; but the underlying reactions were there and could be built on to turn him into a great soldier, but not the Assassin his father had been.

"You're free to say no, Kolyat and no one will think bad of you." Shepard went on.

"May I think on this for a time?" Kolyat was diffident as he looked to her and Bailey. Bailey nodded.

"Of course." Shepard assured him. "Though I still need you as a guard for our outside storage area."

Kolyat smiled. "That I can do and thank you, Commanders for your understanding."


	9. Chapter 9 - Settling In

_Happy Saint Patricks Day for those who celebrate. For those who don't - Happy Weekend. I hope life is treating all you good people well. Sorry, it's taken so long for this next chapter. Bouncing between several stories means that I have to change mental gears each time. That's what that smell of burning rubber and over heated metal is from. LOL Thank you to all those who continue to make my day by faving, following, or leaving a comment. You are all awesome._

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Settling In

 **Garrus**

By the time he and Ms. Tannenfeld got outside. Dasken and Rose were walking up the road. Dasken was pulling a hoover dolly behind her with, Garrus was surprised to see, his armor and weapon's cases. He'd left those at Jorge's, meaning to pick them up when he brought the dolly back.

Also there was a pan of cooked meat. Chicken he thought from the smell. The one thing most every human seem to swear that everything else in the galaxy tasted like.

After his exchange with Vega, the big human had gone and showed him a picture of the things. Rather silly looking to his way of thinking and Spirits the noises they made. But, then again, this was an earth bird. According to Vega they could act as silly as they looked. For once he hadn't thought Vega was pulling his leg as the humans said and Vega was wont to do.

He hurried over to take the dolly from Dasken.

"Thank you, Dasken." He said politely. Then he realized that he now had two dollies to contend with.

 **Ms. Tannenfeld**

Realizing Garet's dilemma, she took charge. Too many years of supervising hyper-sugared kids and/or moody distracted teens.

"Garet, why don't you take Jorge's dolly back to him. Dasken can help me get the chicken inside while Rose looks after your things."

With a click of agreement, Garet pulled his dolly to the side so it wouldn't be in the middle of the road. They didn't have much vehicle traffic but blocking the roadway was asking for someone to come along. He took hold of the empty dolly and headed back towards the Citadel and Jorge's place.

Dasken picked up the pan of chicken. Wisely they had a good tight lid on it. Kept out the dirt and the bugs.

"Rose, if you don't mind, please keep an eye on Mr. Vakan's things until he gets back." She told her ward, and then added. "It shouldn't be long."

"Okay." Rose said. She was eyeing his belongings, with all the unbridled curiosity of a teen, having recognized them as weapon's and armor cases. Rose might be curious but she wouldn't pry into his things. Fortunately, for the Turian, his stuff didn't carry any Hierarchy or Alliance marks that she could see; and Rose couldn't read Palaveni. Though she noticed that any truly distinctive markings were either covered or had been scraped off. She didn't think that all of that was accidental.

Dasken followed her into the house. Easily making her way past all the furniture into the kitchen.

Once there, Cheryl took the pan from her. She checked the temperature of it. Still warm but not so warm as to mess up the cooler's thermostat. With a great deal of relief, she put the pan into the now very functional cooler. Finally they could keep perishable food longer than one day.

"Spirits, is that a cooler or a collection of shrapnel." Dasken exclaimed on getting a good look at the thing.

"I think it's both." Cheryl commented and Dasken laughed.

"He did a good job." Dasken said after quickly checking everything over. They all made a point of looking out for one another now; the war had drawn them all closer. About the only good thing that had come out of the Reaper war.

"He's a craftsman and a worker." Cheryl was careful to keep her praise neutral. She didn't want Dasken to get an idea that Garet was anything other than what he claimed to be.

"I'm sure you showed him the boys."

"Yes." She laughed. "Fred was his usual talented self and fell off into the water dish."

Dasken chuffed in amusement at that, very familiar with the clumsy lizard.

"He talk much about his past?"

"No. He isn't much of a talker." Cheryl told her. "And I think he was more interested in the Chipeeks."

Dasken suddenly made a gagging sound. "Spirits, I'm beginning to sound just like Paty."

That got Cheryl laughing. "No one can quite sound like Paty. She all ready trying to set you two up?"

Dasken gave a chirp of annoyance. "From the moment he walked in the door. She was even 'suggesting' some stress relief." Her mandibles clamped to the side of her jaw for a moment in irritation. Then she paused and gave a low exasperated hum. "What she can't hear is that he's mourning someone."

Cheryl knew she was referring to sub harmonics.

"A lot of people are mourning someone." Ms. Tannenfeld remarked.

"Sometimes.." Dasken was quiet. "I envy you humans."

Tannenfeld looked at her curiously at that admission.

"You can't hear most sub harmonics and they can be so over whelming." Her voice was just on the edge of a keen.

Without being asked, Cheryl slipped over to the Dasken and put an arm around her shoulder. The Turian woman shuddered as a low keen escaped her throat and turned into the embrace. Tannenfeld couldn't fully hear her sub harmonics; but she could feel them, and she held Dasken until the younger woman finally calmed.

"Sorry." Dasken coughed to clear her throat. Turians didn't sniffle like humans.

"It's okay." Cheryl patted her on the shoulder. "It takes time; and Jostel Banns was a good man."

Dasken gave a shaky hum. "Jostel Banns was a stubborn idiot and you know it." Came her retort.

Tannenfeld smiled slyly. "Well, I wasn't going to mention that fact or that half the people in town called him mule headed."

That surprised a short chirp of laughter out of Dasken who knew the term. Cheryl was relieved, the younger woman was still getting over her mate's death and from time to time she'd succumb to a deep depression. Fortunately though such spells were getting less frequent.

"We better get back outside and rescue Garet." Cheryl turned towards the door. Dasken cocked her head in question.

"Rose spotted Garet's armor and weapon's cases and as soon as he's back she'll be bending his ear." Came the explanation.

Dasken laughed out loud. "True. I hope he can deal with adolescents."

"NO ONE can deal with adolescents." Cheryl retorted and they both laughed.

By the time they got back outside, Garet had returned and Rose was peppering him with questions, barely taking time to breathe or to let him answer. He, at least, seemed to be answering them very patiently.

"Why is it so big?" Rose was pointing at his armor case.

"It's for heavy combat armor." Garet replied gravely.

"Heavy combat. What's that like? I bet it's exciting." Rose's voice spiked in excitement.

While Ms. Tannenfeld couldn't hear sub harmonics she could feel some of them – and the ones that suddenly rolled off of Garet made her feel cold and exhausted.

"Heavy combat is exhausting and mind numbing." He replied all trace of emotion gone from his voice. His flanging twice as noticeable as before. "And against Reaper troops it was also sometimes daunting." Tannenfeld was surprised to hear a Turian admit to that; but, then again, this man had been on the front lines and had probably faced foes that none of them could even begin to imagine.

Rose was taken aback at that as Dasken nodded.

"What excitement is in knowing that you survived and that your fellow soldiers survived and that you protected the innocent." He didn't give Rose a chance to interject. "All that is tempered by knowing that many friends didn't make it, by your exhaustion, whatever wounds you took, and those you couldn't save."

He glanced away for a moment and Tannenfeld could literally feel him wrest his sub harmonics back under control.

"It is not glorious – it simply is." With that he turned away to fiddle with the dolly, effectively ending the conversation.

Before Rose could open her mouth, Cheryl motioned to her to go inside. Rose looked to protest but Cheryl shook her head and pointed again, more emphatically.

Looking very dejected, the teenager scuffled her way back inside.

Once she was out of earshot.

"I'm sorry Garet. Rose has no idea what real combat is like, the fighting didn't really get this far. And," here she sighed, "sometimes her mouth gets ahead of her brain."

He'd turned back around and gave a short chirp of acknowledgement. Still looking very 'Turian' Cheryl would say. Closed off, his face fairly expressionless, his sub harmonics somewhat repressed. "Understood. Most adolescents are, what is it humans say, clueless."

He didn't add, she noticed, that it was most 'human' adolescents who were clueless. Turians were raised in a culture of combat and fighting for the common good. Turians knew the cost of battle from an early age.

 **Garrus**

More than ready to put this conversation behind him, he turned back to the dolly. He hadn't really been upset at the teen-ager, rather it brought back memories. Memories of those rare nights when it had been a nightmare of Mindoir that had awakened Shepard and left her wrapped in his embrace, tears streaking her face, while he soothed her with his sub harmonics.

He was one of the few ( _he knew Anderson had known and he was certain that Chakwas also knew_ ) she'd ever told the complete story of what had happened the night of that Batarian raid. The night she had lost everything and everyone she cared for.

Rose had inadvertently brought all those memories to the surface. An innocent teen-ager, surrounded by those who cared for her – facing unimaginable foes – winning but losing it all.

He wasn't quite sure what inner strength it was that allowed Shepard to pull herself free of the trauma of such a night – he'd only known that she had a core of steel. A core of steel that allowed a frightened sixteen year old to overcome her shock and fear to take out her enemies and keep herself alive.

Garrus would never wish a Mindoir on anyone. He'd seen Turian colonies hit by Batarians and the resultant trauma the survivors had suffered from. Humans would fare even worse he knew, they didn't come from a military culture and Mindoir had been an agricultural colony.

Despite all that he was fairly certain that without the background of Mindoir, Jess wouldn't have become Commander Shepard and his mate; and the entire galaxy would have been 'harvested'.

Thinking of Shepard made his gizzard clench and a sub harmonic keen escaped before he could block it.

 **Dasken**

Dasken's mandibles twitched at the tone of loss from Garet's sub harmonics; then he ruthlessly clamped down on them. She didn't think Ms. Tannenfeld had heard them before Garet had stopped it. Even not knowing him, she felt for the man and whomever he had lost, his pain resonating with hers.

"We best get going, Garet." Dasken spoke up, as much because she needed to get home as to distract the man.

"Good luck with Anna." Ms. Tannenfeld said.

Garet cocked his head in question. "There might be trouble?"

"She'll approve you." Dasken reassured him, privately vowing that she'd make sure of it. They desperately needed someone to help around the place. "Some of her instructions…are…well…"

"They're distinctly Anna Steward." The older woman chuckled. "At least you'll have Dasken to translate." With a wave of her hand she went back into her house leaving the two Turians alone on the roadway.

"Should I be concerned?" Garet asked her as they started walking, Garet pulling the hoover dolly.

"No." Dasken paused to try to explain. "My partner, I guess you'd say, has some different ideas."

"Different?" Now Garet was puzzled.

"She's hard to explain; but you'll see when we get there." Was the best that Dasken could do to explain.

Garet looked at her very oddly but gave a mandible click of agreement.

As with most things in Tesken, everything was fairly close. They'd only had to walk for a short time. Making their way around a slow bend in the road that took them out of sight of Ms. Tannenfelds and the Citadel before they came to the 'compound' as someone had dubbed it.

Garet came to a stop to survey the place and Dasken let him take it in.

 **Garrus**

He already knew that the place was an old merc base but the 'compound' was telling. It was at least two acres to a side, cleared of brush particularly in those areas that were line of sight to any of points of entrance. However in other areas, brush and trees had been allowed to remain and he was dead certain that there were a number of stands, both high and ground level, hidden in them.

It was surrounded by a low wall ( _but still high enough to seriously hamper a LOKI mech_ ) the same color and construction as most of the rest of the town. The wall ended in some low, rocky hills at the back. That was also where a couple of what looked like sheds were located. From their position he would have bet that at one time they were an armory and a supply building.

The center of the place was dominated by a big, single story building that could only have been a barracks at one time; but he could see that it had been added onto and modified to soften it, make it look less stark.

Back and somewhat hidden by the barracks was a low, one story building, that had probably been for whoever was in charge of this place. Its once clean lines had been obscured by sheds and other add ons.

The place looked both derelict and like it was just waiting for the original builders to come back. The later immediately put Archangel on alert.

He let go a trill of consideration and concern.

"Whoever built this had some training." Dasken spoke up, understanding what he was thinking.

"A lot of training." He replied. "This is almost a military lay out – though not Hierarchy."

"That lets out the Blue Suns and it's not Blood Pack." Dasken remarked.

"No. Not heavy enough or battered enough for Blood Pack." He agreed.

"Eclipse?" Dasken was both glad to have someone who was knowledgeable and surprised that he'd known about the major merc groups.

"It could be; but I don't think so." He was carefully studying the place. Then suddenly he froze as something occurred to him.

"They didn't find any labs connected with this place did they?" He demanded abruptly.

"Labs? No, no laboratories only what looks to have once been a large communications center. Why?" She'd noticed his reaction.

They might be near death but he learned to be very leery of a downed foe until there was a kill shot.

"Cerberus."

"Spirits, hadn't even thought of those rabid varren. You think it was them?"

"I don't believe so. Most Cerberus places had labs attached." He paused briefly. "So I heard."

"Weren't they destroyed?"

"Most of them but there are still remnants left." He informed her.

 **Dasken**

She recognized Garet's survey of the 'compound'. In a past life she had watched others evaluate a location strategically, evaluated some herself; and Garet's assessments were those of a master fighter and tactician.

He pointed out several areas that could be turned into ' _kill zones'_. She did notice that the ' _kill zones'_ he indicated were for a sniper. He either was one or had worked with one.

She heard the screen on the front door slam and looked up to see several of the kids, Turians and humans, out on the front porch area – watching and sizing up the new one.

 _Here we go,_ she thought in resignation. The kids, despite what Anna thought, had chased off several other maintenance people, and that's what it looked like they were gearing up to do again.

Garet had looked up and spotted the kids. She heard the faintest of trills from him. No fear or concern, in fact, it almost sounded like he was looking forward to the confrontation.

Sneaking a glance at him, she realized that that's exactly what was going through his mind. She had a feeling that the kids were about to get a much needed and rather blunt reintroduction to reality.


	10. Chapter 10 - The Line

_Greetings All. I'm very sorry for the delay in this chapter but I had to wrestle with it for a bit. I almost made it shorter but then decided that I needed to go until it was more finished. My apologies for slowing down in posting; but real life keeps sneaking up on me. Unfortunately. I hope you enjoy and many thanks to all those who've faved, are following, and have left comments. You all rock. If I've made a mistake - always a possibility - please let me know. You all take care and have a great day. Cheers._

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The Line

 **Garrus**

Garrus left off his assessment of the compound to study the youngsters standing on the shaded patio by the front door. He did peripherally notice that the patio roof could double as a sniper perch. Whoever had built this compound had planned for all contingencies.

Garrus registered the three humans – females – adolescents; but they weren't what he was concerned with. It was the three young Turians that he focused on. There was a male, the eldest of the three if he was any judge, but not yet quite old enough for Basic. Also what looked to be a brother and sister, one of a rare set of twins if he had to guess by the similarities of their mandibles and eyes, younger by about a year and a half. All had simple temporary red Colony marks on the tips of their undeveloped fringes and mandibles; but it was a pattern he didn't recognize. Thinking about it now, all the Turians he had met so far had those simple red markings along with older Colony marks that he did recognize. He wondered if it was a new Tesertus Colony mark that someone had come up with.

None of the young Turians were happy to see him if the tones of their sub harmonics were anything to go by.

He heard a low 'growl' out of Dasken, obviously reacting to those sub harmonics.

"Shote needs socialization."

"The oldest of those three." She went on to explain before he could ask. "He lost his parents before they could finish teaching him to be a Turian."

Garrus knew instantly what she meant. The last couple years before Basic, young Turians learned a lot of the ground rules for their society and culture from their parents, guardians, and teachers. A lot of it wasn't a regular sit down class rather it was absorbing/seeing how all those around them interacted with others of their kind.

"They obey you?" He glanced down at Dasken.

"Yeah, but Shote is beginning to feel his fringe growing. He's starting to rebel in some cases."

"Great. Dominance spats with an uneducated stripling." Garrus let the air whistle out between his teeth.

"Could be worse." Dasken commented, as they got closer.

"Oh?"

"Could be physical dominance spats with an uneducated stripling." She pointed out.

Garrus just gave her a sour look.

"That's why you really need to get a Basic training regime of some sort going around here." He stated.

"Don't I know it." She murmured under her breath as they reached the front patio. He noted that someone had tried to brighten up things by planting flowers to either side of the pathway. The plants were looking rather sparse and spindly and very out of place in the otherwise barren compound of hard packed dirt and pea gravel.

The kids, human and Turian, clustered by the front door. He did notice that they seemed to be sticking with their own kind. Safety in familiarity he guessed.

"Afternoon, Ms. Dasken." That was one of the human girls. The others greeted her similarly; but all Garrus could hear were the sub harmonic questioning hums from the three young Turians. Well, questioning hums from the two younger ones, the older boy was putting out a questioning hum with an unhappy edge to it. He was not best pleased to have Garrus here. It wasn't quite a – _you're not welcome_ – but just barely not.

Garrus made a point of not locking eyes with the boy. He was fairly sure the youngster would seek him out later so no need to get into any kind of dominance dispute - now.

Being around humans had taught him how to read, on most occasions; their body language and he could about feel the questions hanging in the air from the three human girls as he and Dasken stepped inside. He left the dolly outside after Dasken made it a point to stare at all the kids in a silent warning to leave it alone.

Just inside the heavy, armored door was a narrow hallway where every ones outer gear was hung on pegs; but he recognized it for what it really was. A type of 'air lock' that would slow people down and funnel them in almost single file into the building proper. In a siege situation it could and would be turned into a killing zone that could be held by one person. He could already see that the walls were near a foot thick. This place would stand up to a lot of punishment as long as the other side didn't have a Cain or a Grunt.

Just beyond the hallway and the heavy door ( _metal inner core he noticed_ ) that would close it off, were several closed doors to the left – he'd of bet that they were originally for officers or those in charge. On the right was one big room – obviously a rest area. Painted in warm colors with amateur drawings hung up here and there, there were chairs, sofas, some small tables, bookcases, and an older style vid screen scattered haphazardly. He was pleased to see, despite being battered and worn, that the furniture was a blend of human and Turian.

Bending over one of the sofas was a tall, rather skinny woman with grey brown hair. Mouse brown Chakwas had dubbed it and then had to explain to him what a small mammal had to do with a human's odd fringe.

Her 'rodent' colored hair – speckled with white – was braided up around the top of her head. She was rooting under the cushions mumbling to herself. Like most everyone she was wearing simple clothes that looked more like modified trail wear. It was practical and logical for the type of lives they led.

"Anna?" Dasken questioned.

"Tesen got into the E-Ration bars again." Anna didn't look up from what she was doing. "I'm trying to find where he stashed them - this time."

With a click of annoyance, Dasken joined her – lifting the cushions on one of the other chairs.

Garrus stayed quietly in the doorway until he noticed the corner of an E-Rat bar sticking out from under a blanket balled up on the shelf of a low bookcase. He bent over and pulled it out – revealing several others hastily hidden beneath the ratty blanket.

He picked them up and carefully stepped over to the human woman who was the closest to him. She didn't even look up she was so focused on her search.

"I believe this is what you're looking for." He held out the stash of high-energy bars to her in his hands.

She jumped and spun with a low shriek, obviously she hadn't been aware of his presence.

"Who…what?" She took several steps back, bumping into Dasken who'd also straightened up.

"Sorry Anna," That was Dasken, sounding an apology. "This is Garet Vakan, he's here about the groundskeeper position."

Anna looked between the two Turians but didn't fully relax.

"Mr. Vakan, it's..it's.. a pleasure to meet you."

Garrus realized then that she was terrified of him; and modified his behavior accordingly.

He nodded as he, again, held out his handful of E-Rat bars. He was very careful not to move in her direction, and to keep his voice low.

"Thank you." She slowly took them out of his hands.

"You have someone taking such things?" He asked uncertainly.

"Tesen.." That was Dasken, "was one of the two survivors of his town. We think the Reaper forces hit it just before they all went down. It took rescuers about a week and a half to get there and when they did, they found him and another hiding in the rubble – scared and half starved."

"Ah." Garrus understood now. In such a situation, the boy's survival instincts had been activated and one part of that was to stockpile food.

"I'll take those back to the kitchen while you two talk." Dasken took the bars from Anna and left the room.

Garrus let the other woman start the conversation. Again he was careful not to move in her direction nor to make much eye contact with her. He kept his voice at a normal level and repressed his sub harmonics, all things he'd learned a lifetime ago on the Citadel.

"Do you have any experience like this, Mr. Vakan?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest. He remembered someone once telling him that that was a body position humans used when they were upset or defensive.

"No." He was honest. " I was a soldier during the war. But I'm fairly good with tech and fixing vehicles and from what Dasken has said – a lot of the rest is manual labor."

"Why do you want the job?" It was almost an accusation.

"I'm new in town and need work and a place to live. I was told that I could get both here." He didn't shift towards the woman. She obviously wasn't military and from what he could tell, very unnerved by a Turian of his size and bulk.

"I am supposed to work for Jorge in the mornings for a couple of hours." He went on to tell her. "That leaves me the rest of the day to work here for you."

Dasken returned from the kitchen.

"I don't know…" Steward began.

"Anna, this place is falling apart." The Turian woman interrupted. "The air car is threatening to self destruct, that last storm left downed branches all over the compound, half the outdoor lights have shut down, the front gates don't want to close…need I go on. He's not a Marauder and he's not going to bite."

The Marauder comment explained a lot of the woman's nervousness. If she had seen or been confronted by one of those twisted mockeries of a Turian – it wasn't a surprise that she was afraid of a large Turian.

Anna had the grace to color at that; and she uncrossed her arms and let them drop to her sides; but he could pick up the tension in them so she was only pretending to be at ease.

Figuring it was best if he sort of acted like she'd said yes.

"What are the duties and the rules, Ms. Steward?" He stumbled a bit on her name. He wasn't used to addressing the non-military or the non-professional.

"Cleaning up around here and keeping up with everything that breaks down…or tries to." Dasken spoke up in exasperation, eyeing the human woman. Garrus began to wonder what kind of relationship Dasken and Anna had. The Turian seemed to be the more practical and outspoken of the two, then again, his size wasn't scaring Dasken.

"You'll be taking orders from Dasken and myself." Anna told him and he nodded. "Oh, and occasionally from the children, we need to help them regain confidence…."

"No!" Garrus didn't even hesitate. Steward was shocked and Dasken let out a startled mandible click.

"The children…" She began.

"I won't take orders from the children." He cut her off. "If they need help and ask – yes I will help. But I will not be ordered."

"They've had a hard time of it, Mr. Vakan. We have to make things easier for them." Anna was suddenly earnest, letting it even override her fear of him. "So being able to give you orders will help them."

"You don't understand Turian society do you, Ms. Steward?" From the puzzled look she was giving him and Dasken's sub harmonics it was obvious that Anna was clueless in that regard.

"No, but what..."

He'd have to ask Dasken later why she hadn't enlightened Anna.

"As a predator species, dominance plays a large role in how our society functions. By all markers, I should be the most dominant Turian here next to Dasken. If you allow the children to order me around then that makes them the dominant ones. No regular Turian is going to tolerate that situation."

"I've tried to explain that to you Anna." Dasken spoke up. "That's why all the other Turians who've applied for the job have quit after a day."

"You are also not doing the children a favor with this." Garrus went on, still keeping his voice low and calm. "What might be acceptable here would not be tolerated out in the galaxy; and many Turians wouldn't hesitate to reassert their dominance."

Anna looked very puzzled at that.

"The kids would get beaten up, Anna." Dasken told her. "Badly." Garrus nodded in agreement.

"I didn't know." She said faintly. "Dasken, why didn't you tell me?"

Garrus had to bite down on his chuff of amusement at Dasken's pronounced eye roll. Too much time around humans.

"I did try to tell you." Came the annoyed grumble. "You didn't really listen, you were too concerned about not damaging their psyches." Dasken's sub harmonics added a – ' _I'll damage their psyches for them_.' Garrus had to struggle to keep from laughing.

"Oh." Steward seemed to consider that for a moment then. "Then I guess you would only take orders from Dasken and I."

Garrus made a mental note to double check any order the human woman gave him. He had a bad feeling she would still let the young Turians get away with things they shouldn't. He began to see why Paty had commented that Anna Steward had the common sense of a baby pyjak.

"Are you interested Mr. Vakan?" Garrus got the feeling that Anna heard but didn't always listen, since he'd already made it clear that he was.

"Yes, and the name is Garet." He told her. He carefully didn't make a move to shake her hand, because of her unease. It had been a long time since he was around someone that uncomfortable with his physical size. Tali had been more wary of him being ex-C-Sec than of his mass.

"Anna, why don't you put together a list of what we need done while I take Garet out to his quarters." Dasken spoke up.

"Right." She glanced over at Garrus. "Welcome Garet."

He nodded politely as he followed Dasken out of the room. He was quiet as they headed back outside where the kids – human and Turian – were busy eyeing his things on the hoover dolly.

There was a certain amount of shifting as they stepped outside; and he was fairly sure there had been some surreptitious poking and touching going on, but his cases were still on the dolly and still locked. He didn't expect any of these kids to possess the hacking skills to get them open.

"Children!" Dasken's voice was stern as they got outside. Instantly the area around the dolly cleared as they all pretended to not have been snooping.

"This is Mr. Garet Vakan, he's going to be helping us with the grounds." She introduced him. "So pay attention to what he has to say."

"Why?" Came the sullen mutter from the eldest Turian boy. Shote if Garrus remembered rightly.

"Because Anna and I say so." She glared at the youngster, who tried, for a moment, to meet her eyes then gave up and stared at the ground. Dasken had been right, the boy's fringe was starting to grow ( _a slang term for maturing_ ) and he was beginning to test his boundaries.

Grabbing his dolly, he nodded politely to the children and followed Dasken as she headed around the corner of the building.

Once they were out of earshot of the kids.

"Is Steward always that spooked?"

"She's usually not quite this bad but you startled her; and large Turians scare her now, particularly ones she doesn't know."

"They didn't before?"

"My mate, Jostel, was even larger than you. He never really bothered her; but after the war she started being very uneasy around larger males that she wasn't familiar with."

The name Jostel seemed to strike a chord; but it didn't seem to be an urgent memory, so he ignored it. "Sounds like she came up against a Marauder." Garrus commented.

"That's what we all think; but she won't talk about it." Dasken sighed.

"From what little I know – talking is supposed to help humans with such things." He commented, clearly remembering Shepard's reactions to Virmire, and Horizon, and her need to vent about them.

"Yes, well, they have to want to talk and she doesn't." Dasken told him. "She'd sooner suffer in silence so she doesn't ' _distress_ ' the children." Dasken actually made air quotes around the word distress and Garrus had to hide a chuckle remembering Councilor Sparatus and his ' _air quotes'_.

"Seems to me that her nervousness would be worse for the children."

"She doesn't see that." Dasken sounded exasperated.

"Wait, if she's uneasy around Turians – is she treating the youngsters well?" His voice had gone cold.

"Yes, she's got some weird ideas about raising kids but she's known all those youngsters since they were little and she treats them all the same." Dasken paused to give an annoyed hum. "Basically they're all a little spoiled."

Having dealt with ' _spoiled_ ' kids of various species on the Citadel, it was Garrus's turn to let out an annoyed hum.

"Did you try to explain Turian society to her?" Garrus decided to change the subject as they walked. The 'commander's' quarters being located near the back of the compound, partially hidden behind a small stand of trees. A stand of strategically placed trees. He was beginning to doubt that anything in this place was left to chance, particularly when it came to defense.

"Several times but she always tries to equate them with human behavior." Dasken told him.

"Our societies are vastly different." Garrus let go with a rumble of displeasure. " Is she going to accept my explanation or will she revert to her original behavior."

"Though she'd deny it, she tends to believe a male before she will a female, so she'll probably accept what you told her."

"Good, but whether she does or not – I WILL NOT take orders from those kids." Garrus was emphatic.

"And you shouldn't have to!" Dasken's mandibles clicked angrily. "Spirits know I won't let them try to order me around. Particularly Shote. He's been trying that for several months now."

About then, they had to detour around several large branches that had fallen from the trees that shaded the center of the compound. The branches were jumbled together, rather like a crude barricade. From what he could see they must have been dragged there and abandoned some time ago. Their leaves were brown and brittle, falling off in many places.

"Why in Spirit's name are these out here?" He indicated the branches as he yanked his dolly free of one of them, the dry leaves crackling and breaking.

"The kids were playing and just left them." Dasken sighed. "Anna doesn't get after them to pick up after themselves outside. Not much inside either."

"They should be cleaning up the compound." Garrus growled. "Whatever they can do."

"Anna thinks that they shouldn't have to do any physical labor while they're ' _recovering_ ' from the war."

Garrus snorted. "Doesn't know Turians well at all does she? We do much better if we stay busy when we're dealing with emotional trauma."

"You know that and I know that; but Anna has her own ideas about it." Dasken's sub harmonics were laced with annoyance.

Before Garrus could ask any more questions, they'd arrived at the low; one story building he'd guessed was for the 'commander' of this base.

Despite a couple of sheds built onto the house, or whatever it was, it was low, simple, immensely sturdy, and meant to last.

There was a walled patio around three quarters of the place. You could see over the wall; but unless you were stupid no one was going to be able to get a direct shot at you. The patio was cluttered with a lot of stuff he was positive the original builders hadn't left behind. He saw human bikes, an old style Turian scooter, busted and disemboweled chairs, tables without legs or tops or both, and lots of cargo boxes.

"Yeah, we've been using the patio as a place to store whatever junk someone doesn't want to throw away." She motioned around her.

He determined the first thing he was going to do was move all the junk elsewhere. The more he saw of the compound the more Archangel's paranoia began resurfacing; and the vigilante's need to make this place secure.

The windows on the interior walls were small and boasted heavy metal shudders.

Leaving the dolly outside, he and Dasken picked up his cases.

Even lugging his weapon's case, Dasken was able to open the door, the lock not being activated, and they stepped inside.

Like the barracks there was a small air lock masquerading as an entryway, with pegs on the walls for outer gear. At the end of it, the door was ajar and led to an open rest area. Small windows near the ceiling made turning on the lights unnecessary.

"What in Spirit's name?" Garrus exclaimed, coming to a halt.

What had to be chairs, sofas, and tables were covered with various cloths. After a second he realized that most of the covers were old sheets of various sizes and decorations. He saw solids, flowers, crazy patterns, and, because he seemed to be everywhere, iridescent pink sheets decorated with that improbable Spectre – Blasto. Over in one corner was even the hideous bright green and black of Blasto's nemesis – the nefarious Tortellini-Za.

The first time Shepard had heard that name she'd collapsed on the floor in hysterics, near breathless. When she stopped cackling ( _no matter what she claimed – she'd sounded exactly like those ridiculous chickens_ ), she'd explained to him that Tortellini was a human food.

She started giggling again at the thought that the larger than life Hanar's chief foe was a Terran pasta.

The idea struck her as so funny that he almost went back down to the battery and his calibrations and left her to her snorting and giggling. She tried to make it up to him; but for the rest of the night their ' _stress relief_ ' was occasionally broken up by her chuckling at odd moments and murmuring ' _bellybutton_ '.

Despite the pain that thinking of her caused, it had been a good memory. She'd been able to laugh and forget everything, at least, for one night and he'd counted that as a good thing.

"Oh, those are dust sheets." Dasken told him.

"I can see they're sheets." He commented dryly and she glared at him.

"No, that's what the humans call them." And before he could open his mouth. "And yes they are also sheets; but they can be any large piece of fabric that is used to keep dust and debris off of things."

Thinking for a minute and noticing the faint swirls of dust, a couple of dried leaves, and a dead desiccated insect on one of the various ' _sheets_ '.

"Clever."

"Occasionally the humans have a good idea." She commented off handedly.

After a moment, Garrus spoke up, his sub harmonics heavy, coldly somber.

"It was a human that united and led the forces of the galaxy against an ancient enemy and took the Reapers down."

Dasken jolted at his tone. "I…I know. I didn't mean to disparage the Shepard."

The Shepard, he'd begun to hear that more and more in his travels. It was fitting but he knew she would hate that kind of adulation. She was just a soldier doing a job.

He gave a curt sharp mandible click, acknowledging Dasken and bringing that conversation to an end. He looked around now, no longer distracted by the covered furniture. The interior of the dwelling was fairly open though there were several small dividing walls ( _load bearing_?) apparently scattered haphazardly throughout.

But he realized that their placement was strategic, placed so no one on the outside could get a clear shot and whoever lived here could defend him or herself. Given that, he was certain that there was, at least, one back exit somewhere.

"Whoever designed this was a fighter." Dasken observed, noticing him taking in the room.

"I'd guess ex-military." Garrus put his armor case on a nearby bench, with an attached rack – obviously designed for just such a purpose. "I wonder who and where they went."

"Not Turian." She motioned around her and he gave a mandible click of agreement.

"Too small, more likely to be Asari, Human, or Batarian."

"Not Salarian?" She questioned

Garrus remembered Mordin Solus, Jondam Bau, and all the other Salarians he'd known.

"They sleep even less than we do, so they tend to spend their awake time being busy according to their interests." He explained. "This room wouldn't fit their needs."

"Not Salarian then." She handed him over his weapon's case.

"Let's hope we never find out." Knowing this was a merc compound, a damn fancy one, made Garrus certain that if any of the original mercs returned – it wouldn't be a friendly reunion.

Garrus settled his weapon's case on another bench. Like the nearby armor bench, it was obviously designed for cleaning and moding weapons.

"I'll leave you to settle in." Dasken turned to go.

"Ah, Dasken, I'm going to remove all that junk from the patio. Is there someplace I can put it?" He asked.

She thought a moment. "That shed that's up against the hill in back, nothing much in there."

"Why wasn't it used for storage then?"

"This was closer?" She said ruefully and he gave a small chuff of amusement.

"What do I do about meals? Go to the Citadel?" Garrus didn't much care where he ate; but he was really hoping it wouldn't be E-Rats or MREs.

Dasken's mandibles clapped tight to her jaw as she gave a hum of apology. "Spirits, I forgot about that Garet. I don't think Anna's going to be comfortable having you at the dining table - yet."

"Understood." And he did understand, trauma like Anna's didn't disappear overnight, and he had no desire to upset the human.

"There's room in the kitchen and we have plenty of dextro food available. Both raw and prepared, if you don't mind getting your own."

"I don't mind."

Dasken sent a schedule of meal times to his omni-tool; and then she left.

Garrus found his way to the bedroom. He carefully removed the dustsheets. Once that was done, he put his things away and got out a much repaired work outfit that he'd acquired along the way. This wouldn't be the first time he'd done manual labor in exchange for a place to stay. And manual labor kept him off of anybody and everybody's radar. Very few were going to think that an Advisor to the Primarch was fixing broken down machinery or clearing up fallen branches.

He glanced at the bed before he headed outside. It looked soft and inviting – if you were a humanoid. Garrus sighed, he was going to have to find pillows, a lot of pillows, if he was going to be able to sleep comfortably; but he'd worry about that later.

He made one stop to get a small pistol to put in a special side pocket. Given the nature of this compound he wasn't going to go around unarmed.

Once outside he started sorting through the junk. He nested several of the cargo boxes inside each other. A quick use of his omni-tool disassembled the bikes and the scooter. He stuffed them into one of the larger cargo boxes. He put what he could on the dolly and headed for the shed Dasken had mentioned.

It was up against the low, rocky hills at the back of the compound. Garrus didn't know what the back of those hills looked like; but given everything else – he was fairly sure that it wasn't easy to get to the top and overlook the back of the compound. He would still check it out as soon as possible.

As Dasken had said, the large shed was relatively empty. He did notice a large cleaning unit in one corner. Well, he knew where to wash the ' _dust sheets_ ' now. From the looks of the place, which were a little puzzling, it had probably been for the storage of things like exercise equipment – and washing machines. But there was just something off about the place that he couldn't put his talon on.

He offloaded everything, making sure to put it neatly into an out of the way corner.

He was settling the last of it when he heard a light footstep behind him.

He figured that Shote had found him. He didn't really want to get into dominance games with the stripling, but knew that he had to assert that he was in charge here. Doing that and not seriously damaging the youngster's ego was going to be hard.

Gathering himself, he turned to face the interloper and froze.


	11. Chapter 11 - Not What It Seems

_Surprise Good Readers, actually managed to get two chapters out this week for two different stories. They've all gotten long enough that keeping track of who said what, who is who or what rank, and what exactly they were doing can take a bit. But being a writer is not only creating but keeping track of everything and everybody. I know I sound like a broken record but thank you to all of you who have faved, are following, or leave comments. You are what keep writers happy. If I've made a mistake, don't hesitate to let me know, I'm far from perfect. This awesome Universe and characters, save the O.C.s, are Biowares - I'm just playing with them. Have a great day all._

* * *

Not What It Seems

 **Shepard**

The last week before the Normandy was finally and completely ready for her shake down flight crawled – as far as Shepard was concerned. It seemed like every other hour brought some new, fortunately, minor crisis that, according to Orson, only she could solve.

One thing she was going to have to solve was what to do with Orson. He was an excellent aide, no question; but she was fed up with his attitude that she was some brainless, defenseless heroine that had to be protected. And that was just for starter.

She reached her breaking point the day that Vega had shown up. She was outside in the docking bay, double-checking with the C-Sec security people. As she had suspected, there was an attempt on the outside cargo area, easily stopped by the C-Sec people. Two unsavory humans and a Salarian had been carted off to the brig.

As a way to say thank you and because she wouldn't let her guard down until the Normandy was safely back in space, she'd kept the C-Sec people on, so they could enjoy the hot showers. There wasn't anything really valuable in the cargo area; but having to replace toilet paper, hand soap, and plastic kitchen utensils at the last minute would have delayed them, at least, another two days.

The ship to outside speaker crackled on.

" _Hey Commander – incoming!"_ Joker snickered.

Before she could ask him what the hell he meant, she was caught up in a giant bear hug and swung off her feet, with a loud and very familiar voice booming in her ears.

"Lola, miss me?"

She laughed and smacked his hand. "Vega. Put me down you ham handed oaf."

"Ham handed, Commander, I'm deeply hurt." Vega gently set her back down. He might and often did manhandle his friends but he was always very careful when he did it.

"No, just deeply crazy." She tossed back, delighted to see the big N7 again.

"Commander." Came another familiar voice and Cortez stepped out from behind Vega.

"Steve, welcome back." Not caring who saw – she gave the pilot a quick hug, which he returned.

"Oh, he gets a hug and I don't?" Vega teased, crossing his arms over his massive chest; and she swatted at him.

"You already took one…"

"Commander!" Orson exclaimed, interrupting. "You're in public."

Shepard's face closed down at that and she turned very slowly to Orson.

"So?" Her voice had gone very calm and level. Familiar with her, Vega and Cortez glanced at each other, nervously.

"You have an image to maintain." Orson went on officiously, not noticing that the other two men had begun to step back.

"An image is it?" Her voice didn't go above a normal speaking tone. "And what is this image I'm suppose to maintain."

"You're the Galaxy's Hero…" Was as far as he got before she exploded.

"Horse Pucky!" She snapped, startling Orson. "Every soldier on this base is a hero. Every being that picked up a weapon or helped in anyway is a hero. WE did it together – separately we wouldn't have survived – we….would….have…been...harvested!"

Startled and somewhat dismayed, Orson still persisted.

"But Commander…." He began and Vega put a large hand on his shoulder, startling him and stopping him.

"I'd quit now, Lieutenant." Vega suggested.

"But.."

"Listen to Vega, Orson." She glared at him. "You'll live longer."

With that she turned and stalked back towards the entryway. She motioned to Vega and Cortez to follow her. With a nod to Orson, the two men shouldered their duffles and followed.

Once the door closed behind them and the decontamination sequence started up.

She was muttering angrily under her breath.

"Who's the _pendejo_?" Vega leaned against the wall, next to her.

"My aide, assigned by an Admiral Renfield." She grumbled.

"Seems like he's impressed with your record." Cortez observed.

She scowled at that. "Not you too, Steve?"

"No, I…" He indicated Vega. "…we..know who you are Commander; but to the outside you're a ' _big damn hero'_."

She groaned and let her head fall back until it bumped the wall. "I'm no hero, I'm just a soldier who did her job."

Vega laughed and gently slapped her on the shoulder. "Enjoy it while you can, Lola. Soon the Alliance will be upset with you for some reason."

"They – in the person of Admiral Renfield – are already upset with me for refusing to do anymore 'Uplift' tours."

"Uplift?" Vega snorted. "Those are about as useful as a subtle on a Krogan."

"You know that and I know that; but Renfield and his ilk don't seem to know that." She returned, rolling her head to look at the big N7.

"That isn't what you got us back for, is it Lola?" Vega looked concerned.

"What do you think, Vega?" She snorted, straightening up. "Of course not. The Normandy is going to do what she was designed to do. Serve the galaxy."

About then the V.I announced the end of the decontamination cycle and the door opened.

"Hey look what the varren drug in." Joker commented when he spotted Vega and Cortez.

"They still let you drive this thing?" Vega shot back, stepping over to Joker's chair.

"I'm the best." Joker preened.

"I bet Steve could give you a run for the money." Vega cautiously slapped Joker's chair. He'd learned years ago that he couldn't touch Joker no matter how gentle he was. He was just too powerful for Joker's condition.

"I'd like to see him try." Joker snorted as his chair rocked from Vega's hit.

"Jimmy, I'm a shuttle pilot – I don't have the experience or skills to pilot the Normandy." Cortez protested.

"You boys can play one up games later." Shepard commented. "Go on and get settled where ever you want. We've got lots of room. Once you're settled come on up to the conference room."

"You got it, Lola." Vega said as he and Cortez headed down past the CIC.

"And no denting the floor where ever you settle." Came the yell from the cockpit.

"You're just jealous of my prowess, Joker." Vega tossed over his shoulder.

"You wish." Joker retorted; but cut off abruptly as another call came in.

"Joker, tell Alenko and Orson to meet us in the conference room." Shepard yelled up at him.

"Hey Commander…" Now Joker was all business. "You've got an outside call."

Noticing Joker's serious demeanor, Shepard realized this was not one of their normal calls.

"Who is it, Joker?" She started heading for the conference room.

"Wrex's discussion buddy." Joker told her and Shepard stopped, realizing whom he meant.

"I'll be in the conference room, keep the others out until I'm done."

"Roger, Commander."

Shepard locked the conference room door behind her. She'd been meaning to make this call, the matter had just been taken out of her hands.

She sat down and activated the conference room communications link.

An image formed over the console and she found herself facing Primarch Adrien Victus of Palaven.

"Primarch Victus, it's good to see you again." She smiled. She was honestly happy to see the man again. While not exactly a friend, he'd been a loyal ally, a ferocious fighter, and he'd led his people into the battle against the Reapers without hesitation.

"Commander Shepard, likewise." He was smiling, she was glad to see. "I'm glad that you are doing better. I had heard you were seriously injured in the final battle." She caught the questioning note in his voices.

"I was, Primarch. I'm still recuperating; and I am sitting down." She admitted.

That elicited a chuffing laugh out of him.

"As you can see, I'm also sitting down, Commander." Victus said ruefully.

"You were injured, sir?" Shepard hadn't heard much other than that the Turian leader had survived.

"A Marauder was throwing pieces of wall at us and I got hit." Victus looked a bit embarrassed at that.

"I know." Shepard smiled sadly, reminded of Garrus. "Turians don't know how to duck."

"No, we don't; but we should know how to get out of the way." Victus told her. "I can guess who told you that."

"Yes."

"I'd like to talk to Garrus, Commander." Victus was suddenly serious.

"Wait…what…you want to talk to Garrus?" Shepard was startled. "But…isn't he with you?"

It was Victus's turn to be startled. "No. I thought, Garrus said when we last talked that he was going to be staying by your side."

"Primarch, the last anyone knows – he talked to you and he hasn't been seen since." Now Shepard was alarmed. The fact that Garrus hadn't contacted either her or the Primarch meant that something was wrong – seriously wrong.

From the look on Victus's face and what the speakers could render of his sub harmonics, he was equally concerned.

"Commander, I think that you and I should meet and discuss this. Can you come out to the Embassy we're at?"

"English countryside – right?"

He gave a mandible click of acknowledgement.

"I have an appointment in the morning and then I'll head over there. Expect me in the afternoon – late."

Victus gave her a nod, learned no doubt from the humans he'd worked with.

"Victus out."

When he cut communications, Shepard was left sitting, stunned – wondering just what the hell had happened and where in the galaxy Garrus had gone – and why he hadn't communicated with anyone.


	12. Chapter 12 - Unlooked For

_Greetings All. I hope life is treating you all well. Here's another chapter. I hope it's okay. Sooner or later Garrus was going to have to run into the kids but I was trying to avoid making it sicky sweet. He has a little experience with kids but is no where near an expert. I didn't want him to be perfect out of the gate or ever. I probably sound like a broken record but thanks for all the favs, follows, and comments. You make writing worthwhile. Have a great one._

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Unlooked For

 **Garrus**

Garrus had expected Shote, Dasken, or possibly even Anna Steward what he had not expected was to be confronted by a small Turian child. Female, though at that age it was often hard to tell, who couldn't be older than four or five given her size. Though when he noticed how very skinny her arms and legs were he wondered if she wasn't a bit older; but undernourished.

She was dressed in a cut down tunic from an older child, over large ( _it hung to her knees_ ), repaired, and ragged but also very clean. She was holding some sort of stuffed toy to her chest. It was brown, shaggy, and very lumpy looking. Garrus didn't know what it was supposed to be or what it had started out being; but, for now, she was clutching it for all she was worth.

For several moments the two just stared at each other, then Garrus realized that she wasn't going to talk so it was up to him.

"Hello." She shifted slightly when he talked but did nothing else. He noticed then that her sub harmonics were almost non-existent. To be that repressed at her age spoke to her being severely traumatized. It also meant he'd have to be enormously careful with her. He had, unfortunately, had a little experience with traumatized kids on the Citadel.

"My name is Garat. What's yours?" He kept his sub harmonics light and friendly; his normal tones would probably spook her.

She clutched the shapeless whatever tighter to her but was still silent. At that point Garrus was stumped. He hadn't dealt with children since his Citadel days and then it had almost exclusively been Duct Rats who were anything but silent particularly to and about the C-Sec officers who were trying to deal with them.

He shifted slightly and noticed that she also shifted. While his was a normal movement, hers was that of someone who was on the verge of bolting if he made the wrong move.

Now what was he to do? He realized that she had to be one of the children living here and that meant she'd lost her family, under traumatic circumstances, if her near complete silence meant anything. He didn't want to add to her trauma; but neither could he stand here all day.

"Leave her alone!" Came a very angry and very young voice; and suddenly there was another youngster in the shed. He was male and about two years older than she was. He was also warning Garrus off with all the force of his under developed sub harmonics. Thin, high, and screechy. He shoved the little female behind him, obviously determined to protect her from the older male.

As he did, several E-Rat bars fell out of the pocket of his overlarge tunic.

Ah, this must be the one Dasken and Anna had mentioned. So then the little female had probably been the other one rescued from the destroyed town. No wonder she was silent.

Garrus looked around and spotting a sturdy crate went over and sat down on it. Figuring the way to ease the kids was to loom less over them. The two stiffened at his movement; but relaxed, slightly, when he sat down.

"Hello, you must be Tesen?" Garrus was careful to lace his sub harmonics with warmth and to bury any irritation. They'd pick that up in a second.

"Who are you?" The boy was near to puffing his still soft plates out, something immature Turians could do; but only when they were absolutely enraged or terribly frightened.

"My name is Garat and Anna and Dasken have hired me to work around the grounds." He didn't elaborate. Right now, the children only needed to hear the basics from him.

His calmness and the fact that he wasn't making a move towards the two seemed to ease the boy's fears a bit. Plus Tesen had to know that the older women were hunting for a grounds man.

"You dropped your E-Rat bars." Garrus pointed out and Tesen stiffened at that.

"There are a couple of empty boxes over there." Garrus went on, carefully pointing at a nearby shelf unit bolted to the wall. "Why not put them there. Out of sight but easy to get to."

Tesen was looking at him very suspiciously right now. Obviously expecting censure but getting suggestions had confused him.

Hesitantly, the little girl moving with him, he sidled over to the shelf unit and threw the E-Rat bars in a box on a lower shelf. Garrus made a mental note of it. He had a few E-Rat bars in his duffel and he'd exchange what he could and give the replaced ones back to Dasken. Completely taking away all the bars would just impel Tesen to go take more. He'd continue until he got enough of a stockpile to quiet his instincts. Garrus had seen some of that during his time on Menae with the younger soldiers.

Once Tesen had ' _hidden_ ' his stockpile he seemed to relax somewhat.

"What's your friend's name?" Garrus remained sitting and let only simple interest color his under tones.

Tesen near puffed up again like a juvenile pyjak; and Garrus could hear the screechy warning tones begin to start up.

"Why do you want to know?" Tesen demanded, sounding rather like a very angry bird.

"It wouldn't be polite to not call her by name." Garrus told him and that simple answer derailed the little one's anger.

Garrus could sense Tesen's under tones easing and he stopped puffing up.

"Ah…er…," the boy hesitated, not sure if he should tell Garrus or not. Garrus simply waited.

"Her name is Malli." The youngster admitted, finally.

"Malli, it's very nice to meet you." Garrus told the young girl and nodded at her. He didn't get any reaction and hadn't really expected one; but, at least, she hadn't bolted.

For several long moments they all just stared at each other. Garrus realized they didn't quite know what to say to him anymore than he knew what to say to them.

"It's been very nice to meet you; but I have to get back to work." He told them. "I'm going to have to stand up now."

After a moment for the warning to sink in, he slowly got to his feet and stretched, rolling his shoulders. He was still a bit stiff from that ride in the cargo ship. He'd been folded up like an assault rifle between boxes of rations and tools.

"Are you allowed to be in here?" He asked the two little ones. He made a mental note to find out where the children were allowed to go and where they weren't.

"Not unless we're with someone." Tesen admitted finally, faintly.

Garrus assumed he meant an adult or one of the older children.

"All right. You're going to have to leave when I do then, I don't want to break any of rules." Garrus told them, glancing around to make sure everything was put away.

Tesen looked a bit unhappy but Garrus had deliberately phrased things so as not to put any kind of blame on the kids.

"Hey Tesen, Malli.." Came a high piping dual toned voice from outside. The two children turned at that. Tesen shooting a startled and alarmed look at Garrus.

Garrus instantly stepped to the side, out of sight of the door. He didn't pull his pistol but his hand was on it.

"The new guy didn't even lock the front door." The voice went on. "He's got a couple of cases that have Hierarchy locks on them; but with some coding I've never even seen before. It will take me a bit to hack…" Garrus amended his earlier thoughts that none of the kids had tech skills.

With that another young Turian female, in another overlarge tunic came in the door. She was just a little older than Tesen; but she sported the same colony marks as Garrus was seeing on other Turians.

She stopped at the alarmed looks the other two were giving her.

"What's wrong? What's with…oh Spirits!" She had followed Tesen's line of sight right to Garrus. Who was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. She fell silent as he stared at her.

"Those codes are to keep people out of my things." He said cooly. "So, who are you?"

She looked highly embarrassed, wrapping both hands around her stomach and shuffling her feet ever so slightly. None of the children were wearing boots or shoes; but then again the ground and/or the gravel wouldn't really hurt their feet.

"Ah, er..Jinta." She answered finally.

"Jinta." He nodded. "Don't touch my things again."

He wasn't overtly angry but his under tones were stern, making it very clear that he wouldn't tolerate a second invasion of his privacy.

"Yes sir." Jinta's voice was very quiet.

"I'm Garat and we all need to leave now so I can go back to work." He carefully herded the three out of the shed, closing the door behind him. It didn't have a lock and he made a mental note to see about that. Given that the cleaning machines were there – he might not be able to lock it; but he wanted to secure it somehow.

Malli had still not said anything; but, if he was reading her body language correctly she was no longer as afraid of him as she had first been. Tesen was still cautious, and Jinta was alternating between embarrassment and being eaten up with curiosity.

"All right, I'll see you three later." He told them, turning to take the dolly back to his quarters to move more of the junk off the patio.

"Garat..sir.."Jinta spoke up suddenly. "What are those codes you're using? I've never seen…" She trailed off as he turned to look at her.

Garrus stared down at her, privately amused at her audacity. Typical techie, a thresher maw could be bearing down on them and they'd still be fascinated by a new code.

"They're Quarian." He told her and was further amused, though he hid it, when her eyes lit up.

"Quarian?! Where, how do you know a Quarian?" Jinta exclaimed.

Garrus paused thinking of Tali and Rannoch and hoping that she would finally get her home there. Someone needed to have their dreams fulfilled, even if he couldn't.

"She is a friend and we fought together during the war." With that simple explanation, he gave them all a nod and headed back towards his quarters.

A fierce debate broke out between Tesen and Jinta; and while he couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, he was certain he was the topic of conversation.

With a quiet smile he went back to work.


	13. Chapter 13 - Clues

_Happy Spring All, however you celebrate it. Here's another chapter of Different Path. I haven't forgotten my other stories this one just seems to be commanding my attention at the moment. As for everything else, same song, different chapter - thank you for the favs, follows, and comments. And if I've goofed in anyway, please let me know. I am not perfect. Oh guest, I can't directly reply to you but thank you for your comment. Have a great one all._

* * *

Clues

 **Shepard**

Shepard's sleep that night was restless. Plagued with wondering what had driven Garrus off; she was sure he hadn't just unilaterally decided to leave. He might call himself a bad Turian but he cared deeply about his people; and ( _a quiet voice murmured_ ) he had cared even deeper about her. She had almost considered that maybe just maybe it was just stress relief and he been pretending until she remembered the look in his eyes when she'd turned to run for the beam. Anguish and love in equal measure. And that keening cry she'd somehow heard over Harbinger's roar, one she'd never heard from him before, one that she hadn't thought he could make. No, Garrus was many things but a liar of that level – no.

So it was a tired, decidedly cranky Shepard that dragged herself into the mess that morning to get a cup of coffee.

"Long night, Commander?" That was Cortez, standing talking to Vega, and as always unfailingly polite.

"Lola, you look like shit."

She sighed, unlike Vega whose mouth had often gone through the relay before his brain caught up.

"James!" Cortez smacked Vega on the arm, causing the big N7 to almost spill his coffee.

"Ouch! What? She does." Vega exclaimed, rubbing his arm.

"You don't tell a woman that the first thing in the morning." Cortez continued, chiding him.

" _You don't tell anyone that first thing in the morning_." Joker's voice chimed in over the intercom. " _And particularly not Shepard if you want to live_."

With a grunt and a raised cup to acknowledge them, Shepard took her coffee and retired to chair at the far end of the mess, away from everyone. She did not feel at all social this morning.

So, because Murphy was a bitch, Alenko was the next one in the galley. He grabbed a cup of coffee and headed right for her.

She groaned inwardly but quietly nodded to him as he sat down next to her. Hoping he'd get the hint and just be quiet.

No such luck.

"What's your schedule today, Commander?" He asked, disgustingly alert and chipper. Right at that moment she wondered if she'd be doing the galaxy a favor by shooting his cheery morning ass. She took another sip of coffee hoping it would make her less homicidally inclined. Shooting your XO was frowned on first thing in the morning, or actually anytime.

"PT session with Chakwas at Huerta E. and then I have a meeting." She murmured.

"Oh, a meeting with who?" He asked.

There was no reason not to tell him; but Shepard found herself reluctant to do so. He was only trying to help; but it seemed like more and more lately he was intruding on her privacy.

Only one man got to do that and Kaidan wasn't that man and wasn't going to be no matter what he hoped or thought.

"Is all the cargo finally stowed aboard?" She asked to distract him.

"We've got one last delivery of personal care products." He told her, frowning a bit at her change of subject.

She nodded. "Good. Let the C-Sec officers have one more shower after that delivery comes in. Least we can do for them. Also let them use the laundry – they get clean clothes and we find out if the washing machine has been installed right." She was thinking of the machine on the SR-2 that had been decidedly mis installed to the annoyance of the entire crew. No one had been able to fix the thing, which screamed like a banshee during its rinse cycle, and finally, Grunt had taken his shotgun to it.

"See you later, Alenko." With that she came to her feet.

"I can go with you, Commander." He offered, smiling at her.

"Thanks; but one of us needs to stay with the Normandy." She told him and started to head for Cortez and Vega. Then something occurred to her and she stopped.

"I've offered a place onboard the Normandy to C-Sec Officer Kolyat Krios. If he has decided he wants to join us, just tell him to get his things and be onboard by tonight." She instructed Alenko.

"Krios, any relation to the man from your mission beyond the Omega 4?" Alenko frowned slightly.

Shepard wasn't surprised that Alenko knew about her second mission nor who had been on her crew; but it angered her that the Alliance insisted on poking their noses into everything. She had led the galaxy against the Reapers and the Alliance still refused to trust her. Sometimes telling the whole of the Alliance brass to ' _shove it_ ' really appealed to her.

"Yes. His son…" As Alenko went to open his mouth. "And no, he's not an assassin as his father was."

With that she, again, headed for Cortez and Vega before he could ask another question. Shooting Alenko, _all right wounding him slightly_ , was looking better and better to her. Best to get out of here before she did something her so-called hero status couldn't get her out of.

A couple of hours later she was at Huerta Earth or Huerta E as most everyone called it, going through P.T. Her trainer/therapist, Akiko Gunnar was a tiny, bubbly, upbeat little woman who, in therapist mode would have been a match for any of her old N7 drill sergeants. Sometimes Shepard hated her; but mostly she was glad for the little woman's determination.

"You're doing very good, Commander. Eight more lifts."

"I better." Shepard huffed her way through the series of exercises for her legs.

"Just as long as you don't overdo it, Commander." Came a familiar voice.

Shepard looked up at the mirror in front of her to see Chakwas walk up to them. Akiko nodded to the older woman.

"Hey mom." Jess teased. "Would I do that?"

Chakwas crossed her arms over her chest ( _seems like everyone was beginning to copy her_ ) and just gave Shepard a look that said she wasn't buying it.

"Do you want me to list examples?" Came the retort.

"All right." Shepard finished her reps and took the towel Akiko handed her. "No need to get nasty about it."

"I'm not being nasty, I'm being truthful."

Shepard wiped herself down and put on her gym hoodie, then set down on a nearby bench and grabbed a water from her duffel. Realizing Chakwas wanted privacy, Akiko left.

"I was going to come up and see you after I showered, Karin." Shepard told her, and then took a big swallow.

"I figured; but I was down on this level and thought I'd save you the trip." The older woman sat down on the bench next to her.

"How's my recovery coming, Doc?" Shepard asked.

"How do you think it's coming?" Chakwas said as Shepard leaned back against the wal

"Chakwas, you only ask that question when you want me to face a conclusion I won't like." She sighed. "That bad?"

"Sometimes you're too clever for your own good, Jess." Chakwas stated.

"Too much associating with Geth." Shepard teased but her heart wasn't in it as she thought of Legion.

"Your legs are getting stronger…"

"But?" Shepard coaxed her.

"But they're never going to go back to the way they were." Chakwas told her. "Maybe, sometime in the future, when there are enough resources to rebuild or replace your cybernetics – they will get stronger; but not strong enough to lead a ground team or even be on one."

Shepard closed her eyes and just sat quietly for a few moments.

A hand squeezed her arm gently and she opened her eyes again to find Chakwas looking at her in sympathy.

"I know it's not what you wanted to hear."

"No." Shepard was honest. "But I think I've known for awhile now. I'm no doctor but I do know my own body and it doesn't respond as it once did, or I would want it to."

She gave a long sigh and stared at the floor.

Chakwas, wisely, didn't give her that platitude about it could be worse. At least, if she'd been dead or a vegetable, she wouldn't have had to face this reality.

Another nurse had come in while they were talking and was straightening up. Shepard recognized her as one of the floor nurses from when she'd first regained consciousness. She absently nodded to the woman. With every place being short handed and swamped, everyone did whatever needed doing.

"Well, I can still command the Normandy as long as I don't go to ground." Shepard said, still without looking up.

"I thought you were doing uplift tours, and is the Normandy finally flight worthy?"

"They finished her refit today." Shepard told her. "She's been resupplied. Now all she needs is crew." With that she looked up at the older woman.

"Can you come with us, Chakwas?"

It was Chakwas turn to sigh and look at the floor.

"I wish I could, Commander; but I've still got too many patients that desperately need my skills." She said sadly.

"I was afraid of that but I do understand. They're lucky to have you, Karin. You kept all of us, more or less, in one piece and alive despite husks, geth, and Reapers." She smiled at the doctor who looked sad about disappointing her.

Chakwas smiled faintly. "And the occasional rocket."

Shepard sucked in her breath at that reminder of that fateful firefight on Omega and….Garrus. Tired but alive; and then lying in a pool of ink blue blood, fighting for his life.

"Have you heard from him?" Chakwas was careful in how she phrased it with the other woman in the room. Their relationship was still relatively unknown to the general public.

"No. And I just got a call from the Turian Primarch. Garrus isn't with him, in fact he though he was with me." Now Shepard's voice grew cool. "Stupid bastard cou..didn't even come to see me."

"Excuse me, Commander." Came a shy voice and they both looked up to find the other nurse.

Shepard got control of herself and smiled at the woman.

"Yes, Sandy isn't it?"

"Oh, you remembered." The woman was startled.

"You always made my nights more cheerful." She told the woman. Shepard's nights, at that time, were full of nightmares and the agony of a badly damaged body. Sandy had always had a smile and a friendly word for her. Making her misery a touch less miserable.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm sorry to eavesdrop but are..are you talking about a Turian?"

"Yes. Garrus Vakarian..my..a..member of my crew." She stumbled over whether to admit to their relationship or not.

"A Turian did come to see you." Sandy told her. "It was right after the Normandy got back to earth. I was on night shift."

"I remember, but I don't remember any Turian." Now Shepard was unsure.

"It was the night after the surgery to reactivate the cybernetics in your back. You were unconscious for a full day." Sandy said.

"I was checking on you when I thought I saw someone through the window into that little side corridor."

The side corridor had had no exit and had been turned into a storage area. Shepard could see into it from her bed and had amused herself watching the mess of old equipment, battered trashcans, and odds and ends ebb and flow. Once there had even been a large pink rabbit balloon.

"When I went out to check, it was a Turian, standing in the dark. Big fellow, battered and scorched armor, flickering blue visor, and blue face paint." With that she made a swipe across her face under her nose and eyes – exactly where Garrus's colony marks were.

"He was pretty intimidating." Sandy admitted. "And I hadn't been expecting him there; but when I got over being scared – I asked did he want to come in."

"Did he say anything?" Now Shepard was totally focused on her tale.

"Yes, he said he didn't dare – he hadn't really undergone a full decontamination; and as you just had had surgery I accepted it."

Somehow just knowing that Garrus had been there made Jess hurt a little bit less.

"He asked that I not mention him to anyone." Here Sandy blushed deeply. "Despite his looks his voice was so rich and deep that I couldn't say no."

Shepard had to smile, Garrus's voice was one of the things she'd first come to love about him. "Yeah, a lot of Turians have those liquid sex voices."

Sandy gave a little giggle at that and Chakwas chuckled.

"What did he do?" Even Shepard was smiling now.

"He stayed there for a couple of hours, just watching you." Sandy told her, "But when the Alliance doctors showed up, I noticed that he had moved out of sight. After they were gone, when I checked – he had also gone."

Sandy paused for a moment. ""I don't know what he is or was to you; but what I saw was someone who cared deeply about you."

She turned to go and then stopped. "And when I cleaned that window a couple of days later there was a mark in the dust on it. Like someone with a large, three fingered hand had held it against the glass."

With that she was gone, leaving Shepard's world in upheaval.


	14. Chapter 14 - Lay of the Land

_Surprise, surprise I actually managed to get a second chapter up on another story in the same night. (Don't get used to it, I doubt it will happen again.) I hope this does justice to this story. I'm realizing now that Paths is as complicated as Perspective. Particularly as I'm trying to weave things from all the other stories into this one, but in different ways since this is a slightly different universe. I hope you enjoy and, as always, thank you for your favs, follows, and comments. You make all this worthwhile. Cheers._

* * *

Lay of the Land

 **Garrus**

Ignoring the whispering and hissing going on behind him, Garrus went back to the house. He didn't quite know what else to call it.

He pulled the dolly onto the patio, lodging it behind some of the larger crates and activating the brakes. He stepped inside; however, he made a point to stop and update the door lock. Downloading one of Tali's security protocols to it. It was far from her most difficult but he thought it would keep Jinta busy for a little while. He didn't fear theft but his things weren't for children to handle.

Once inside, he locked the door and went through to the living area. Looking around, he could see that Jinta had actually been fairly careful to not leave sign that someone had been here. He could see where she'd been; but the average person wouldn't know. Then again the average person wasn't the over paranoid Archangel.

He input a far more difficult security protocol on both his armor and his weapon's cases. It was a combine of one of Tali's and one of his. It wasn't hack proof but it would give a dedicated hacker a migraine trying to break it. Kasumi had graciously tested it for him. She had, in the end, broken it; but even she'd deemed it difficult, a sure sign that the average hacker would have been frustrated.

There was a locked cupboard on the wall and he put both his cases in there, though first he pulled out a far heavier pistol then what he was currently carrying. Night was coming and he knew nothing about the local wildlife, so he'd go prepared. Getting gnawed on by the Tesertus version of a varren didn't appeal to him.

Once that was done, he turned on a few lights then went back outside. It was getting on towards twilight and he paused to take in the sights and sounds of the moment. He hadn't been hunting in the wild since just before he'd gone into basic; and though Turians were many centuries past the hunters and providers of their primitive days, still those basic instincts remained. They would come to the fore when the situation called for them; and his time hunting the dark streets of Omega as Archangel had left his instincts closer to the surface than many.

From what he could tell, nightfall was due in a couple of hours; but the light had already begun to dim, painting the clouds that had rolled back in, in colors of grey, charcoal, and blue grey, with touches of magenta and gold near the horizon.

He could smell moisture in the air; and suspected that it would probably rain before morning. It was also; he pulled his coat tighter around him, getting cold. He decided that he was going to need a suit of light armor, for its heating capabilities if nothing else. His heavy armor had that; but it wasn't an everyday kind of outfit.

Giving in to his curiosity and paranoia, he began to explore the compound. Making note of entrances and exits, and defensive positions. The latter of which there were quite a few.

He first started by circling the house, seeing a few places he thought might have back exits in them. He made a mental note to check the corresponding areas inside the house.

He was peripherally aware of Jinta, Tesen, and Malli all watching him from where they stood clustered by the shed. He nodded at them but kept looking around. That elicited more hissing and chirps from the children, at least, from Jinta and Tesen.

He smiled to himself when they couldn't see him. From what he could hear they were extremely curious about him; but that earlier fear had eased off.

Good, he had no desire to become a, what was it humans called it, a Booly Man – no…wait…Boogie Man – that was it. Whatever in Spirit's name that was.

Remembering Dasken's comments about the front gate, he headed in that direction. When he got to the gates, after a moment of checking around he found the problem. Some branches, no doubt windfall from a storm, had gotten lodged in back of one of the hinges. A few moments of inspection and he was able to pull them out. He moved the gate back and forth a few times and now it moved fairly easily. Tomorrow, he would oil it, if he could find some. While he was there, he noticed some faint seams in the wall. When he ran his omni-tool over them – he realized that there was a heavy armored turret behind that section of wall.

He checked out the other side, both the hinges and the wall and his suspicions were confirmed when he found signs of another turret. The more he looked, the more things he found; and the more this compound was turning out to be a merc's dream – and a vigilante's nightmare.

The turrets, thank the Spirits, were inactive now; but somewhere in this compound there had to be a control panel if not a dedicated control center. Finding two turrets led him to believe that there were probably more, also more devices both passive and defensive.

He'd have Dasken check out the main house, if she hadn't already; and he would look through his own quarters. If nothing was found then he would start looking in the sheds. That brought up the one he'd been in earlier; maybe there was a hidden room – that's why he'd felt that something was off about the building.

As he was checking out the other gate and its hinges he picked up the sound of footsteps and low voices. Two humans and one Turian if he heard correctly.

His guess was correct as he came from behind the door to confront Moras and the Advek Brothers. Moras had his arm bound up, and from what Garrus could see; someone had put his arm back in the socket.

The three adolescents jumped when he appeared; but they didn't pull any guns.

"Why are you here?" His voice was stern but he kept calm.

Moras sidled back behind the two humans. His sub harmonics sounded slow and confused until Garrus realized that he was probably on heavy painkillers.

"What's it to..." One of the Adveks started to retort and his brother smacked him - hard. "Ouch."

"We'd like to see Shote, sir." The other brother was far more polite, even if it sounded like he was not used to doing it.

"Are you allowed on the grounds?" Again he was calm with them. From what he could see, his behavior was confusing them. Obviously they expected him to yell and chase them off.

He was inclined not to let them into the compound; but he didn't know if they were Shote's friends or if they were allowed to visit here. Knowing Steward they might just be.

"Ah…er…" The three looked at each other.

"It's never come up." One of the Adveks finally admitted.

"Then stay here and I'll find Shote."

With that he turned and headed for the main house. He was careful to not fully turn his back on the three. They didn't seem to have gotten more weapons but he wasn't going to take any chances.

He wasn't sure where to find the eldest Turian boy but then he noticed a whole group of the older youngsters, human and Turian, sitting on benches on the front patio. He had to wonder if they'd divided up into older and younger groups.

One of the human girls spotted him, she must have said something because as one all the kids turned to face him. He wasn't fond of being the center of attention; but these were kids not mercs or husks.

Shote stood up, obviously intending to confront him.

 _Spare me, youngsters and hormones, Garrus thought_.

Before Shote could even say anything.

"Shote, your friends Moras and the Advek Brothers are at the front gate." He spoke up.

"Why aren't they here?" It was a demand with a sub harmonic challenge backing it.

"They are waiting at the gate because I wasn't sure if they were permitted to be on the grounds." Garrus told him.

"They aren't!" That was Dasken as she came out the front door.

"They're my friends." Shote protested, sounding more like a petulant child than a young man.

"They're a bunch of trouble makers." Dasken snorted at that then, after a moment, sighed. "Go, but don't leave the grounds. Dinner is almost ready."

With that Shote moved stiffly around Garrus and then shot off towards the main gate.

"All right, the rest of you, it will soon be time for dinner so go wash up. Delia, would you please round up Jason, Mel, and Sue. Lassa if you could find Tesen, Malli, and Jinta."

"I believe that Tesen, Jinta, and Malli are out by that far shed." Garrus spoke up.

"Er, thank you, sir." With that the young girl that Dasken had spoken to headed around the side of the building. The human teen-ager was gone, her friends were headed inside, the young Turian male with them.

After they were alone.

"Are you settling in?" Dasken asked.

"It will take a bit, but yes." Garrus told her. "Ah, I've fixed the front gate. It was just a couple of branches jammed into the hinges."

"Good. I was afraid it would be something major."

"After Shote is done with his friends…"

There was another snort from Dasken at that.

Garrus went on. "Do you want me to close and lock the front gates?"

"Yes. We don't have any of the big mountain predators down here; but I have heard rumors that there might be a few varren loose." Dasken told him.

Garrus nodded, making a mental note to look up what kind of wildlife Tesertus had.

"Why were the young ones out at the shed?" Dasken asked, eyeing him.

"Malli seem to have been checking me out." He paused then added. "That child is severely traumatized, Dasken. She has no sub harmonics."

"She has no regular voice either. I'm trying with her; but she needs an expert." Dasken was frustrated. "Which, Spirit's know – I am not."

"You are, at least, trying and you care." Garrus reassured her as Chakwas had once done him when he was worried about helping Shepard deal with her nightmares.

"What about Tesen?"

"Hiding more E-Rat bars and defending Malli from me." Garrus told her.

"Spirits, I told him to stop that." Dasken exclaimed.

"His survival instincts have been activated and until they calm he's going to keep doing that." Garrus said. "Let him have a few to hide and it will ease his urge to grab more and stash them."

Dasken looked at him curiously. "You've seen this before?"

"In some young soldiers." He told her, trying not to think of Menae and the carnage he'd left behind to follow Shepard and Victus.

"And Jinta?" From the sounds of her sub harmonics, Dasken might have an idea what the youngster had been up to.

"Apparently I'm an idiot for leaving the door unlocked and I have some very odd security programs on my cases." By now Garrus was just amused at the youngsters audacity.

Dasken let out an angry trill at that. "Spirits. That girl is nosier than Paty. I'm sorry."

"It's all right, she didn't get into anything." Garrus reassured her. "And I've upgraded the security programs on everything."

Dasken gave a chuff of amusement. "You realize that you've challenged her. Now she's going to be trying to get into your things at every opportunity."

Garrus considered that for a moment. "While I would prefer she not do so, her getting into the house is minor." Here he went cold. "But I do not want her in my armor or weapons. They are both private and nothing a child should handle."

"Good luck, she doesn't really understand that breaking into someone's things because it's a challenge isn't right."

"Then she best find out now, before life forces her to learn." Garrus said coldly.


	15. Chapter 15 - The Mystery Deepens

_Hello All. I hope your weekend goes well. Happy Early Mother's Day. Here's another chapter, and no I haven't forgotten you - just having to work a little harder to bring things to life. Also to keep track of what I've done and what I want to do. And which story I've done it in. As always thank you for your kind support, whatever form it takes. You guys all make my day. Take care and have a great one. Cheers._

* * *

The Mystery Deepens

 **Shepard**

Once done with her physical therapy and Chakwas, Shepard boarded the shuttle and had Cortez head for the Turian embassy or whatever they were calling it.

She'd looked it up the night before and found that the Alliance had given over the use of a large English country estate to the Turians. Most of the Turians in Britain were located there now. There were still many spread across the globe; but they were slowly making their way ( _or being collected_ ) to this place so they could board the remaining Turian dreadnaughts and head back to Palaven. Though she understood at least one dreadnaught had gone back to Palaven with most of the seriously injured and then returned to earth with supplies and for another pickup. A journey of many months even at FTL.

The Primarch had elected to stay with the soldiers that had accompanied him to earth. Shepard approved; but then, Adrien Victus had been a general long before he became the Primarch. Having seen him fight, she understood why he was made a general. Then again, Turians didn't tend as much as humans to promote some one to a position they didn't have the skills for. There were still some Turians, she was sure, that had been promoted more on family connections and politics than their skills. The infamous 'air quotes' Councilor Sparatus probably being one, she thought sourly.

She was sitting in back with Vega and had been staring at nothing for a long time when Vega finally spoke up.

"You okay, Lola?"

She roused out of her introspection. "I'm fine, James."

"Pardon my language Commander but that's crap." The big N7 rumbled. "You've been staring at that wall like it's a merc that needs shooting."

She sighed, realizing that he was right and that he'd caught her at it. "Thinking, James."

" 'bout Scars?" Vega's question caught her unprepared.

"W..w..why should I be thinking about Vakarian?" She stuttered faintly.

He snorted. "Come on Lola, everyone knew you two were sweet on each other."

"Sweet on each other?" Despite the pain that thinking about Garrus caused she had to make a comment. "I haven't heard that phrase in decades."

Vega waved off her comment. "Sweet on each other, seeing each other, having the hots for one another, exploring sheetland…"

She waved off another example before he could get X-rated, hoping in the dim exterior of the shuttle he couldn't see her blush.

No such luck, Vega took in her face and grinned – well smirked really.

"So where is Mister Stylish?" Vega asked. "I was surprised not to see him at your six?"

It hurt but she was actually glad to talk to someone about this. "That's just it James – I don't know. I thought he was with the Primarch; but Victus called last night and he thought Garrus was with me."

Vega let out a low whistle. "That's not like Scars. When we/he heard you had survived – well you know Turians – it's hard sometimes to know what they're feeling; but everyone within a dozen feet could feel his happy vibes."

"Vibes?" Shepard snorted at that. "What's this – archaic phrases day?"

"His under voice or whatever the hell you call it." Vega scowled. "When he would be saying one thing but you could feel he meant something entirely different."

"Yeah, I know." And she did. During the later stages of their relationship, Garrus would occasionally be delivering some technical spiel ( _calibrations_ ) but she could sense if not feel that he was saying or meaning something intimate or provocative. _The insufferable smart ass_.

James leaned against the wall of the shuttle.

"Actually we were glad that that news had come through." He sighed. "I don't know what Scars would have done if you had really been gone." He rubbed one enormous hand through his hair. "Hell, we had a hard enough time keeping him going after we crashed."

This was news to Shepard. Oh she'd heard bits and pieces from Joker and Chakwas but no one had really told her specifics.

"What exactly did happen on that planet, James." She asked. "No one has ever told me all of it."

"Well, all I can tell you is what I know." Vega grew uncommonly serious. " After we crashed and things stopped falling off the ship. The Major took charge – highest-ranking officer and all that. Joker was a wreck what with EDI going down, and wasn't up for much. Chakwas was swamped in med bay."

Shepard felt a twinge of guilt at that. Though she could not remember specifics, somehow she knew that whatever she'd done to the Reapers had also taken out the Geth and EDI.

"Scars was stuck in medbay. Doc wouldn't let him get up, though he tried. She finally hid his armor and threatened to keep him under sedation if he didn't do as she ordered."

Shepard gave a low chuckle. Chakwas was an expert at keeping moronic ( _the Doc's words_ ) marines from reinjuring themselves.

"So was Sparks, but, at least, she was behaving." Here he grinned.

"Why were Tali and Vakarian in the med-bay?"

"They were both recovering from injuries and the Doc wanted to keep a close watch on them." Vega told her. "We didn't have near as much in the way of dextro shit as levo, and we didn't know how long we'd be stuck on that planet."

That comment chilled Shepard. That she could have lost her best friend and Garrus, after all they'd been through, to something as insidious as starvation.

"Having heard, from the engineers, how long it might take to get us air borne, Doc got Sparks and Scars on a special diet to make their food last longer." Vega shook his head. "Good thing, or they would have been in trouble long before we lifted off."

"She even tried them out on a couple of levo foods she thought they could tolerate and get some use out of."

"Turns out apples, applesauce was something levo they could take. Everybody gladly gave up their applesauce for Scars and Sparks." Here he laughed. "But by the end Sparks had had so much applesauce that she'd begun threatening to use her shotgun on anyone who came near her with some."

Knowing how testy the little Quarian could get at times, Shepard laughed with him.

"Scars was a different matter. Turning into a damn hermit almost. Spending all his time repairing or fixing things to get us back in the air. Anyone needed help he was there." Vega grew serious. "Sometimes he'd work himself into a collapse." He paused to look at her. "We knew he was doing that so he didn't have time to worry about you."

Shepard's breath caught in her throat at that. She'd been unconscious during that time and so hadn't had to worry about the Normandy, her crew, and Garrus. But the Turian, he'd been awake, aware, and trapped on an unknown planet with no news of her. Despite his stoic exterior, as she had seen in his unguarded moments, where she was concerned he was anything but stoic.

"Chakwas, Liara, and Sparks made it their mission to keep him going and keep him healthy, as much as they could." James smiled. "I even saw Sparks marching him up to sickbay one day, at the end of her shotgun."

"Stupid, stubborn Turian." She grumbled.

Vega laughed. "I think Sparks called him a – stubborn bosh'tet, and a few other things that the translator glitched on."

Again, despite the pain, Shepard had to laugh.

"I'll have to thank them all for keeping him going." She mused.

"It was them and the thought of finding you, in whatever condition you were in, that drove him." Vega told her.

"Don't know quite what you two had going, though the old merc complained about the noise when you were 'calibrating'."

She was Commander Shepard, an N7, and a Spectre, and she still went beet red at that. ( _Oh hell, Zaeed must have heard them that one day_.)

Noticing her color change, Vega started smirking again.

"So…calibrations…is that Turian for…"

"James, not another word." She snapped, cutting him off.

"Aye aye, ma'am." The wording might have been polite, the attitude was anything but.

"Meat headed smart ass." She growled under her breath and Vega chuckled.

Something occurred to her. "What was Alenko doing?"

"Taking care of the ship and crew. He was doing day to day; but repair work wasn't exactly his thing." James said then paused and smiled. "Funny thing was. If the Major wasn't around – we'd all go to Scars. He could usually aim us in the right direction or get us the right parts, though he always deferred to Alenko. I honestly think if someone had asked us to choose we would have backed Garrus."

"Why? Along with not being human, he isn't even Alliance." Shepard was startled by his admission.

"But he's been with you, been loyal to you since the start." Vega was serious. "The whole ship knew about Horizon, Mars, and the showdown on the Citadel and that Alenko didn't have your back while you fought for us all."

Shepard didn't know what to say to that admission, or how word had gotten around; but she suspected Tali, Liara, or Joker, or all three.

The intercom clicked on. "Five minutes to touch down, Commander. You better strap in back there." It was Cortez. "The Turians have given us permission to land on the estate."

"Roger that, Steve."

She plopped down next to Vega and started buckling herself into the seat harness. The big N7 did the same.

In no time at all they were dropping down towards an impressively large lawn, though one area had been marked off and showed signs of shuttles coming and going.

The Estate, from what Shepard could see through the window, was old, enormous, and, in defiance of the Reapers, green and growing. There were stands of actually trees - not ashy skeletons.

With his customary skill, Cortez set the shuttle down gently in the marked area. After a second, he shut her down and let the dirt from their landing blow away.

Vega freed himself from his harness and going to the door, popped it open. By then Shepard had gotten herself out of her harness. She could tell that the shuttle was used mainly for humans or humanoids – it had none of the modifications that had had to be built in for Turians or Krogans.

Vega had hopped out and turning around, offered her his hand to step out. Given the drop from shuttle to ground, she took it.

As she stepped down, she heard the squeaky clunk of badly fitted armor banging against itself. She turned to see a Turian, after a second look she amended that – a young Turian, maybe a teenager dressed in abysmally fitted, mismatched armor. He was a little taller than her, but in comparison to most Turians he was a regular string bean. Medium grey plates, dark tan skin, and yellow green eyes. She didn't recognize his colony marks but then she didn't recognize most of them. The only ones she truly knew by heart were cobalt blue and painted across nose, face, and mandibles.

"Commander?" His voice was an up and down of squeaks and growls. From his look he was as frustrated with his voice as she was amused by it. She made it a point not to laugh at the poor kid.

"Yes, and you are?" She was formal but not unfriendly.

"Cadet Hendan, Commander. This is an honor. The Primarch wanted me to meet you and take you to the conference room."

"Excellent. This…" She indicated Vega. "…is N7 James Vega."

"Sir." Hendan was very formal, which would have worked better if he hadn't sounded like an enraged bird of some kind.

"Cadet." James nodded at him; but from the way he started coughing, he was trying not to laugh at the poor kid.

"Lead on MacDuff." Shepard told him and got a look of absolute confusion out of him.

"Human idiom that means, you lead and I'll follow." By now, she gotten pretty good at explaining human terms to bewildered aliens.

Hendan led them through the Turians that were coming and going from the main house. There were many more than she expected; but most that she saw looked relatively healthy which was a good thing. All the races had taken a beating during the war.

Once inside, Hendan hesitated. "Ah, the Primarch said you'd been injured. Ah…I…"

Divining what he was driving at.

"I can walk up the stairs but with difficulty." She told him.

"There's a.." He hemmed and hawed a moment. "..small elevator ma'am; but it can only take two."

He obviously meant the over sized Vega.

"How many flights up?" Vega didn't even blink.

"Er…two, sir; but don't you want someone to show you where to go." Hendan's voice hit a high note in his concern.

Vega shook his head. "I'll wait at the head of the stairs for you." He looked at Shepard and grinned. "Race you Lola."

With that he headed for the stairs and started up them in a way that even Shepard would have been hard pressed to manage in her heyday.

"Smart ass." She grumbled to herself but turned to the cadet with a pleasant smile. "Lead on, Hendan."

The elevator was old and very small and Vega would have barely fit in by himself, much less with anyone else. It moved somewhat slowly up to the right floor where they found Vega at the head of the stairs – not even out of breath.

"Show off." She told Vega, who just smirked at her.

"Commander Shepard." Came a deep flanging voice that she instantly recognized.

She turned to greet the Primarch. Dressed, as she remembered, in heavy armor. But this armor was camouflaged, she thought it was a Palaven pattern, and had seen a lot of battles and repairs. Without being told, she realized that he'd probably gone through the war in this suit. He didn't look too badly injured though he was leaning lightly to his left on a cane. His raptor gold eyes were clear and still seemed to have the ability to see into your soul.

Her appraisal of him was stopped when she realized that he was flanked by two Turians. A male and a female. The male was older, closer to Victus's age, with dark steel plates, dark tan skin, and steel grey eyes, dressed in simple battle damaged armor. The female was closer, she thought, to Garrus's age. Lighter grey plates, light tan skin, and green blue eyes. She was dressed in cobalt blue armor, again bearing signs of battle. From somewhere Shepard remembered that Cobalt blue armor was the sign of a Turian medic.

What brought her up short was that both Turians bore the familiar dark blue slash of paint under their eyes and across their nose. Both bore Vakarian's colony marks so she wasn't totally surprised when Victus introduced them.

"Commander Shepard, this is Castis and Solana Vakarian. Garrus's father and sister."


	16. Chapter 16 - Dominance

_Hello Good Readers. I hope you're having a good weekend. Surprise, actually got another chapter out. I'm trying to get faster guys; but without sacrificing good story telling or the story itself. This is a somewhat shorter chapter. As I've said before, I let the story sort of dictate the length of the chapters. Some are long and some are short. As always, to borrow a line, we thank you for your support. Favs, follows, and comments are a writer's chocolate - and I lurv chocolate. (Yes love is misspelled, I'm being silly here.) Have a good one all._

* * *

Dominance

 **Garrus**

"Have you looked through the house?" Garrus motioned to the sprawling building behind them.

"Yes, why?" Then reading something into his face and sub harmonics. "You're talking about the turrets at the front gate?"

"You knew about those?" It was more a statement than a question.

She gave a mandible clic of acknowledgement. "I just didn't say anything to Anna."

"She wouldn't like it?" Now he was curious; but, then again, as a soldier, a fighter he'd appreciate any extra edge he could get.

"No." Here Dasken let her breath whistle through her teeth. "They're already there, nothing we can do about them; but Anna doesn't know enough to keep quiet about things like that. And you never know who might be listening."

"Ah." He understood that reasoning only to well; and in the back of his mind, Archangel silently approved.

"And Spirits forbid, Jinta and Jason find out."

"Jason?"

"Jinta's human counterpart and one half of the Terrible Techies as Anna calls them." She exclaimed, irritation lacing her sub harmonics. "If those two knew they'd be scouring every inch of this compound to find the controls and I really don't want them to have a pair of turrets at their disposal."

"No." Garrus shuddered inwardly at the thought of the oblivious Jinta in control of a turret. Rather like handing Grunt the Cain.

Garrus had been keeping a surreptitious eye on the front gate and Shote and the others. When he saw Shote step back inside, alone, he excused himself and headed for the gate.

It was only a short distance but he ran through several different scenarios as to how he could handle it or what might happen.

His more basic, ancient side wanted to force Shote to submit to his dominance. ( _Archangel_ ) His slightly more rational side ( _Garrus_ ) knew that that would not be good. The boy needed to acknowledge his elders but he didn't know everything he should and he was still, though he'd deny it vehemently, healing from the trauma of the war. Spirits knew, Garrus was still healing. His nights were occasionally violently torn apart by disjointed and vivid images and sounds of the war.

He still flinched inwardly when he heard a vehicle horn, instantly flashing to the blaring siren of a Reaper.

As he got to the gate, Shote turned on him. Garrus spotted the altered stance and the braced shoulders. Boy was ready to take him on.

Without a word or even really acknowledging Shote, Garrus started pushing one half of the front gate closed.

"Close that side, Shote." He told the boy. It wasn't a snarled order nor was it a plea; it was the polite request of an elder.

It short-circuited the boy's anger. He stood gaping for a few moments, then he turned and did as he was asked.

Once the two had the gates closed and Garrus activated the gate lock, he took a deep breath, gathered his calm about him, and turned. As he had expected Shote was once again braced as if he meant to challenge Garrus.

He silently cocked his head in question at the boy.

"You hurt my friend!" Came the accusation.

"Your friend threatened me so I disarmed and disabled him." Garrus told him. He didn't feel the need to add that he could have killed him, he was certain that Shote was well aware of that.

His simple statement of fact seemed to deflect some of Shote's anger.

"I…I…he…" Shote stuttered. He was obviously not used to dealing with an older Turian that he didn't know; and Garrus was being very careful to stay calm.

"Asked Dasken or Paty or any of the others from the Citadel. Your friends deliberately came into the restaurant to threaten." Garrus went on.

Around them the sky began to darken, and the wind slowly picked up. Garrus sensed that there was moisture in the air and that soon there would be rain.

"You shouldn't be here." Shote overlooked that truth; and seized on his anger again.

"Where would you have me go?" Garrus made very sure that it was a question without any sign of yielding in his sub harmonics.

Once again Garrus's calm question confused the boy.

"I…er…I.."

"I'm here as the maintenance person until further notice." He told Shote. "If you or any of the others need my help you have only to ask. However I am not yours or any of the others to order."

"Miss Steward said…"

"Miss Steward does not understand Turians." Garrus gestured between Shote and himself. "Does not understand how dominance is part of or plays into our ways."

Shote looked lost, his anger short-circuited by Garrus's calm explanations.

"You lead the Turian children, am I not correct?" Garrus changed the topic, giving Shote a chance to get back on his feet, at least, mentally.

"I…er…I guess." Shote was acting embarrassed now if Garrus was reading the flapping mandibles and fluctuating sub harmonics. However he was very glad to see that the boy probably wasn't in that position from a need to dominate the others.

"I'm the eldest. It seemed to be something I should be doing." Shote admitted quietly.

Whatever he hadn't learned about being a good Turian, Garrus was pleased that he had learned to be concerned for his own.

"You are very correct." The older Turian told him and was quietly amused to see the boy perk up at the slight complement.

"Do you all do exercises and practice drills?" Garrus motioned towards the main house.

By now it had grown dark enough that the outside lights of the compound had turned on. Set low they slowly grew brighter as it grew darker. Garrus took a mental note of the ones that weren't working. He would make it a point to start working on them tomorrow when he was done at Jorges.

"No." Shote admitted, falling into step beside Garrus. Again Garrus was faintly amused that the boy had ceded over dominance to him without much of a protest. It said how much the youngster was still healing and how young he really was. If he had had a little more experience, a little more age, and a little more healing time – he would not have.

"We don't…well, I don't really know what to do." He sounded ashamed, if his sub harmonics were anything to go by.

"Why didn't you ask one of the ex-Hierarchy soldiers? I saw a couple of them at the restaurant this morning."

"Why would they want to help me?" Now Shote sounded genuinely puzzled. "We're only orphans."

Garrus was instantly angry and he wondered where the boy had gotten the idea that orphan Turians were somehow less than Turians with family. It was awfully like the shit that got spread around about the Cabal.

He'd fought next to enough of the biotic Turians to know that they got a lot of crap talked about them, ( _he'd even heard some of it_ ) and thrown at them for something they hadn't asked for. He'd seen many of them hold the line and too many of them die on Menae and elsewhere to protect Palaven and the Turian people from the Reapers.

"It doesn't matter whether you have a family or not. What matters is that you are Turian." He told Shote. "Whoever told you that orphans are less hasn't studied our history. Some of our greatest leaders or fighters were orphans. Our own Primarch's great grandfather was an orphan and look how he turned the Victus clan into one associated with war and fighting and winning."


	17. Chapter 17 - Questions

_Greetings and surprises good folk. Managed to actually get two chapters for two stories done in about two days. Enjoy, I don't think I'm going to be doing that again anytime soon. Working a little bit here because this Castis is somewhat more formal and colder than the one in Perspective. Not enormously different but still I have to be careful how I portray him and Solana. As always thank you for all your kindnesses and interest. You rock. Wishing you a great weekend. Notice - these characters and this wondrous Universe all belong to Bioware, I'm just playing with them. Cheers._

* * *

Questions

 **Shepard**

She hadn't been sure what kind of exchange she was going to have with Victus. After all, Garrus was a Turian and even more so both a friend and an advisor to the Primarch. Though Garrus had seemed even more amazed than she had been at his rise through the Hierarchy. Frankly, she thought it was long over do, very clearly remembering what Liara had found in the Shadow Broker's files on Vakarian.

But if she'd been, and still was, unsure of dealing with Victus – she was totally uncertain of how Castis Vakarian was going to react. Garrus's sister, Solana, looked more approachable; but then again, to Shepard, Turian females had always looked a bit less apex predator than the males. Looked being the operative phrase, she wouldn't have wanted to tangle with any of them. Witness Nyreen Kandros.

"Commander." Solana's voice was higher than her brothers but still with a rich edge to it. Shepard idly wondered if she was considered good looking as Garrus had been. If she had next to no idea what was considered handsome among Turian males, she was completely clueless where the females were concerned.

"Commander Shepard." Castis's voice, on the other hand, had the precise clipped edge of the cop he'd been.

"Let's adjourn to the officer's dining area." Victus spoke up. "I suspect this is going to be a long conversation."

Victus squired the little group into a nearby room that had obviously been turned into a dining room for about 20 or so people.

Shepard took the time to study the two Vakarians. Steel was the word she'd use for Castis. Steel in color and steel in nature. You'd get very few clues from his face and body language. She could see where Garrus might not get along with his father. The younger Turian was not quite so rigid in stature or in behavior; and she was certain that Vakarian senior wouldn't necessarily approve.

Solana now, she was more of a puzzle. Her plates were paler than either her father or her brother, her mandibles shaped slightly differently. Shepard had learned from Garrus that mandible shape was a way to differentiate Turians, at least, for other Turians. Shepard had to wonder if the young woman took after their mother. Again she didn't know much about Turian genetics any more than she knew about Turian standards of beauty or handsomeness. She'd only known that she liked the looks of one particular Turian – scars not with standing.

 **Victus**

The officer's dining room was; fortunately, mostly empty when they came in. One of the staff was resetting tables but on seeing the group come in, she nodded to Victus and left. Whiteson's people were well trained and exceptionally discrete.

As they settled at one of the tables, Victus could tell there was some careful appraising going on. Shepard was discreetly and thoroughly checking out Castis and Solana. Solana was, in turn, looking her over. It was Castis who was mentally running a background check in his head. Though saying nothing, his sub harmonics were a combination of suspicion, dislike, and barely hidden concern. Victus wasn't sure if the Commander could hear or understand Castis; but he'd learned that humans often could sense sub harmonics they couldn't hear. He was willing to bet that Shepard was well aware that the senior Vakarian wasn't fond of her. Which was unfortunate; because he was fairly certain that the younger man had bonded with Shepard, witness their good byes in London. He was also fairly certain that Vakarian hadn't told his father about this.

One of the serving staff showed up then.

"Primarch, do you and your guests wish refreshments?"

"Yes, _Khaal_ for myself and the Vakarians, plus some dried meat strips, tea for the humans and what you call biscuits?"

With a nod the woman was gone. Meanwhile, Victus hid his amusement at the look on the big Marine's face. He remembered Vega well and was sure the man had been hoping for something much stronger than tea. If they stayed the night, he'd direct him to Whiteson's ground crew. He was certain that they knew where to find something stronger and would be happy to share.

"Commander, you said you thought Garrus was with me?" Victus went right to the heart of the matter. "Why?"

She sighed. "The last anyone on the Normandy saw or heard from him was right as he was taking your call, Primarch."

"He said that he would go see you at the hospital then he'd let me know what his plans would be." Victus explained.

"I hadn't thought he made it to the hospital; but today one of the nurses told me she'd seen him there that night." As Shepard took over the narrative she glanced off to the side, a frown touching her lips. "He watched me, as I slept; but didn't enter my room nor did he make himself known to the doctors or to the Alliance's people."

Victus's mandibles clapped tight to the side of his jaws. "Why would Vakarian not go into your room nor make himself known to anyone?"

"Garrus was showing respect for his commander's condition." Castis spoke up.

Vega snorted at that. "That doesn't sound like Scars at all."

Victus remembered then that that's what the Marine had called Garrus. A nickname, Shepard had explained. Hers for some reason known only to Vega and the Spirits was Lola. While used teasingly, Victus had sensed that Vega had a great deal of respect for the two.

Castis on the other hand had no such background and his sub harmonics flared in anger at what sounded like an insult to his son.

"Castis, he means Garrus no disrespect." Victus spoke up before Castis could castigate the human; something he was well on the way to doing.

"James, keep the nick names aboard the Normandy." Shepard ordered, glaring at the big man. "Here you use proper names and titles."

"Yes, Commander Shepard ma'am." The big Marine looked somber but from the expression on Shepard's face it was obvious that he was being annoying. Again Victus remembered that Vega just was that way and hid a chuff of amusement.

"Have you any idea where he went after that?" Victus got back to the matter at hand.

"He had to have come back to the Normandy because all his stuff, what little there was, was gone." She told them then looked over at the Marine. "James, did you or anyone else see him after everyone disembarked."

Vega shook his head. "No. We all knew he would go see you, beyond that we were involved with the Alliance, Medical, and just getting a meal that wasn't E-Rats."

"Why did none of the rest of you go to the hospital?" Castis was puzzled. "She was your commanding officer also."

"But none of us were the Commander's boyfriend." Vega spoke up, surprised. Caught off guard Shepard groaned at that and Solana and Castis were startled. Then Castis's face closed down as his sub harmonics grew angry.

"I don't appreciate your attitude towards my son." Came the snarl.

"Castis.." Victus interrupted. "…he's only speaking the truth. Garrus and the Commander were a couple." He kept the fact that he thought they'd bonded to himself, Castis had had enough shocks for the moment. "I..overheard them in London before the final run towards the beam."

If Castis had been angry before now he was completely at a loss, mandibles flaring, mouth slightly open, sub harmonics in total disarray.

"I…er…how…why?" He sputtered to no one in general.

"I wish I could tell you how, Mr. Vakarian." It was Shepard who spoke up now. "I only know that Garrus went from being my best friend to being one of the most important people in my life. Someone who cared and that I could trust on and off the battlefield."

"But you are human and he is Turian." It was more a statement than an accusation.

"That wasn't what mattered to us." She went on. Still quiet but with that intensity that Victus had noticed always surfaced when she was talking about something that was deeply important to her. "What mattered was that he was Garrus and I was Jess. Two people who found each other in the midst of the madness of the Reaper War."


	18. Chapter 18 - Memories

Greetings All. Sorry for the delay. Trying to balance Garrus being Mr. Bad Ass and yet being good to the kids without making him sappy. I'm not sure there is such a thing as a sappy Turian. Thank you for all your kindnesses, you keep me going when RL gets me down. Everyone take care and have a great day. Cheers.

* * *

Memories

 **Dasken**

By now Garat and Shote had gotten back to the front door of the building. Dasken was waiting for them and was surprised by the calm between the older man and the boy. She clearly remembered some of her friend's youthful dominance battles – their sub harmonics had been ' _spiky_ ' and ' _strident_ ' for several hours afterwards until their parents had ordered them to get it under control. She couldn't pick up anything on that order from either of them. Then again, Garat seemed to have a lot of command over his sub harmonics leading her to believe he'd spent a great deal of time in situations where that control was necessary. More and more she was thinking he'd been a merc. As for Shote, he actually seemed to be relieved in a way.

"Shote, go on into dinner." Dasken ordered the boy. "Clean yourself first."

Shote looked like he was going to talk back but both Dasken and Garat stared at him, their sub harmonics brooking no argument. With a mumbled acknowledgement and the faintest of mandible clics, he scuffed his way into the house.

Once the door had closed behind the youngster.

"How did you avoid a fight? He was ready to challenge you?" She demanded.

"He wasn't sure how to handle me." Garat explained, rolling his neck to ease tension. Obviously more affected then he would admit to. "A male he doesn't know, who wouldn't back down but who wasn't trying to force him to submit. Also frankly, he is still healing." Here Garat started shifting nervously. "I think he may also be hunting for a father figure as the human's say." Now he was thoroughly embarrassed. "Not that I'm one he should be looking to."

Dasken appraised him. "You're a far better match than most of the males in town. They're either too old, not tolerant enough, or not dominant enough."

If he'd been embarrassed before, now, if he'd been human, Dasken was sure he'd be doing that blushing thing.

He gave a mandible clic of acknowledgement but his leaked sub harmonics portrayed how he really felt. Dasken kept a tight hold on her amusement, she didn't really know him; but didn't think he'd appreciate her laughing at him.

He quickly changed the subject. "Do I still have a job?"

"Yes. Anna will just take some time to get used to you." Dasken explained. "You scared her."

"Not my intention." Garat commented and Dasken acknowledged him.

"She scares easily these days." Dasken told him then went on. "Again I'm sorry I have to ask you to eat in the kitchen." Now it was her turn to be embarrassed. "Normally we all eat together; but.." she trailed off.

"You don't want to upset her." He offered and she agreed.

"I'm fine with that. Besides I don't think I'm up to trying to eat with twelve pairs of eyes drilling into me."

After a second, she trilled in amusement. "I'd forgotten about that; and they are all going to be extremely curious about you."

Then she groaned. "Spirits, and Jinta will be trying to interrogate you between bites."

"Those tactics I can deal with." He commented off handedly and Dasken wondered what he meant by that. It almost sounded like he'd dealt with the cops at some point. Well, most mercs, sooner or later came into contact or rather conflict with the cops.

"Is there a back door?" He asked before she could question him. He seemed to be able to discern when she was going to ask a question he didn't want to answer.

"Yes, and it leads into the kitchen." She told him, accepting that there were things he wasn't willing to talk about. Well, that she understood, she had her own secrets

"What am I allowed to use?"

Now that question did surprise her. Many, if not most, would just have assumed that they were allowed access to everything, particularly a man, if she assessed him rightly, that had been on restricted rations lately.

"The left side of the kitchen is dextro, including the cooler. Whatever you can find you can use though we would ask that you not take the last of anything."

"Of course." With that he excused himself and headed around the corner of the building.

 **Garrus**

He found the back door easily. He thought he had seen it earlier as he walked over here. It had a semi-covered entrance behind a couple of defensible walls. He doubted that there was any place in this compound that wasn't defensible in some fashion or couldn't be turned against an invader. Again, silently at the back of his mind – Archangel approved.

When he stepped inside he was met by the mingled smells of levo and dextro instantly bringing back memories of the various Normandys he had served on.

Gardner's attempts at cooking anything, Tali's emergency induction port, Vega's Huevos or whatever those yellow things were, and Shepard's occasional ' _burnt offerings_ ' as Joker dubbed them. Seemed the savior of the galaxy was something of an incompetent in the kitchen. Rather badly so. Even those vegetable puffs that had a permanent setting on the micro. Somehow she always managed to burn them; and he always avoided the mess after one of her failed attempts.

If humans thought that burnt bang corn ( _he'd forgotten exactly what they called it_ ) smelled bad they should try having his sense of smell. The acid reek of scorched organic material and over heated oil combined was enough to give him a headache and make his stomach roil.

And Shepard was always three times as irritable as normal after one of her mistakes, particularly as Joker made it a point to tease her unmercifully about her failures. If he hadn't had brittle bones and been the best pilot in the Alliance she probably would have shot him out the air lock….or just shot him - period.

At the thought of Shepard, he almost went to his knees as the pain of separation hit him. Most days he could keep it at bay; but here now when he was tired and surrounded by familiar scents – his emotions overwhelmed him. He just wanted to sink to the floor and keen his agony to the skies. He knew he couldn't though; he wasn't alone and he was not going to let any of these people know his weaknesses. You didn't bare your throat to strangers. But, for a brief moment, he gave into his hurt and let out a low, keen of loss.

Then he heard someone just around the corner and instantly he buried his pain. There were a few crashes and bangs followed by muttering. Sounded more like someone trying to crash through the kitchen not work in it.

Up ahead on the wall, was a series of pegs that had outerwear hung on it. He took off his over jacket, being careful to pocket his weapon in his tunic, and hung it on a peg. He was also careful to make as much noise as he could to warn those in the kitchen.

After a moment, he stepped slowly down the short hallway and turned into the kitchen.

The kitchen was large, obviously geared to dealing with, at least 24 at a time. It had a cooler, sink, dishwasher, prep area, stove/oven, and all the other necessary equipment. Adjoining it and connected to it was a small dining area. This second connected area had a table, large enough for eight people in its current configuration. A seam in the middle of the table said it probably could be enlarged. Cabinets along the wall were filled with table wear and the like. Enough for, at minimum, a couple of dozen people.

He wasn't sure whether this smaller eating area had been reserved for officers, or for the cook staff, or for those on guard duty. Any and all of those were possible and made a certain amount of sense, it was probably a combination of all three.

Several youngsters, both Turian and human, were scurrying back and forth, making enough noise for a whole squad. Obviously getting dinner ready. They were using the dining table as a staging area for dinner.

Again, he was careful to stand in the doorway until someone noticed him. The Turians, the twins he'd noticed earlier, knew he was here. From the way the humans reacted, they'd been informed of his presence probably by the twins.

The older human girl – Delia he thought she was called, paused to look him up and down. Appraising him like he was an old air car for sale. Unimpressed with her, he just stared back, arms crossed over his chest. She reminded him of too many spoiled kids he'd had the misfortune to deal with on the Citadel.

"Oh, sir." That was the young Turian girl, Lassa he thought she was called, who suddenly noticed he was in the doorway.

"Hello." He returned politely. "Dasken told me I could use the kitchen."

"Ah, er, I, er….sure." Lassa stammered and Garrus hid his amusement. He remained where he was, leaning against the doorframe until the kids had gotten the meal together and carried it out to the dining room. Leaving the kitchen somewhat disorganized but nowhere near the mess that some of his friends in C-Sec could generate. There was a little running back and forth from the kitchen to the main dining area for forgotten condiments or utensils; but after a few moments it quieted down.

Once sure that they wouldn't be coming back into the kitchen until the meal was over, he stepped in and went over to the cooling unit. Despite Dasken's protests it was actually rather well stocked, as were the cupboards and shelves.

Now, what to make. He wasn't much of a cook; but one dish he made a point to learn from his mother before he headed to Basic was how to make _Chetes_. It was really just a snack; but right now he wanted something easy and familiar. Besides he wasn't really all that hungry these days. He ate because he had to not because he took a lot of pleasure in it.

He pulled out the preserved meat and took just a couple of strips out. Getting that kind of protein, almost exclusively a product of Palaven, was probably near impossible these days. There was also a great deal of pounded preserved fish. He'd never made _Chetes_ with fish but he thought it would work. His mother had always said that you could use most any kind of meat in a _Chetes_. At the thought of her, he keened quietly to himself. Even now, years later, he missed her. Moreso, because he had lost her years before death had finally freed her.

He also found fresh _Loak_ leaves in the cooler. Must be from that local farmer. As he rinsed them off in the sink he wondered if Victus knew about this. A greenhouse would be quicker and easier to set up then trying to farm on blasted land, it could be set up on a star ship; and they could feed more people faster. Something they were going to need to do.

Along with leaving Shepard, he'd had to abandon Victus and his people. He hadn't wanted to; but Renfield had made it clear that he intended to pursue some sort of vendetta against him if he stayed on earth. As he wouldn't risk Shepard, he would also not put his people in jeopardy. Perhaps he could send some sort of anonymous message to Adrien, tell him about the enclosed system greenhouses, and send plans.

Leaving that thought for later, he found the appropriate spices in a cabinet and he carefully dusted down the fish and the meat. Rolling everything up, well not neatly, but at least it wasn't falling out; he put them in a pan, added a little broth, and set it to cook. It was better if you used the oven; but he was feeling lazy.

As he stood there, monitoring them as they slowly cooked, he didn't want any ' _burnt offerings'_ , he gradually became aware that he was being watched. Archangel's paranoia closed around him like a cloak as he slowly turned, hand drifting down towards his gun. In time to see two small, under developed fringes duck down behind the counter. Well, one did, the other was somewhat sticking up.

Putting his paranoia to rest, he quietly stepped over to the counter and peered down. Jinta and Tesen were pretending to hide. Well, Tesen was, Jinta was the one whose head was sticking up.

"Yes." He inquired, keeping his amusement under wraps.

Startled Jinta squeaked and when Tesen looked over to see her head sticking up, he smacked her.

"Ouch." She exclaimed and smacked him right back.

Before the fight could break out, he coughed to get their attention and the smack fest died away. Caught, they sheepishly stood up, barely able to see over the counter.

"Can I help you two?" He'd gone back to his _Chetes_ , turning the heat way down and putting a lid on the pan so they could simmer.

"What are you cooking?" Jinta demanded excitedly. "What are those?"

" _Chetes_."

Puzzled, Tesen and Jinta glanced at each other then back at him.

"What are Cheetees?"

"It's _Chetes_ and you know…." He paused then as he remembered that _Chetes_ were more of a Palaven dish and weren't commonly found out in the colonies.

"It's a Palaven food." He finished.

"Oh." That was Tesen, eyes fixed on the pan.

It was painfully obvious that the two youngsters were dying to try his dinner, such as it was.

"Would you like to try some?" He asked resigned, well knowing the answer.

The resulting babel of voices told him all he needed to know.

"Go sit at the table." He ordered, getting some plates out.

The two youngsters hurried over to the table and about threw themselves into chairs with bangs and thumps.

After checking to make sure they were done, he turned off the heat and put a couple of the fish stuffed _Chetes_ on two different plates and took them into the eating area. He intended to keep the meat ones for himself. Jinta and Tesen had gotten themselves drinks from another cooler in the eating area that he hadn't noticed before. That made sense, Gardner had always grumbled when someone went behind his counter to get a drink from the cooler while the older man was working in the kitchen.

"Be careful they just came out of the pan." Garrus told them as he set the plates down in front of them.

He went back into the kitchen to get his own plate. By the time he got back the two youngsters were trying to gnaw on the _Chetes_ ; but their mouths were too small for the adult sized snack. Also too hot from the way they kept dropping them.

With a sigh, he headed back into the kitchen where he got forks for all of them and a knife. As he came back to the table, Tesen had put his down so it could cool and Jinta was cautiously trying to lick hers.

"Let me cut them into smaller pieces for you." He told them. "They'll also cool faster."

Jinta quickly dropped hers on her plate and he carefully cut them into bite size pieces for them.

As he settled down to his dinner he wondered if feeding small children had been added to his list of tasks. Spirits, he hoped not. He could assemble food things like sandwiches or, he shuddered at the thought, salads. _Chetes_ were about the only thing he could really cook well. His best culinary skill, like many soldiers, was reconstituting MREs.

Ever in a hurry, Jinta finally managed to chew and swallow a bite of _Chetes_.

"Good." She exclaimed, spitting tiny flecks of _Loak_ leaf all over the table and Tesen. The youngster growled at her sub harmonically but she ignored him, already working on another piece.

"I'm glad you like them." He said, trying one of the fish ones. It wasn't too bad. Needed more spice but otherwise actually quite tasty.

For several minutes they were all quiet as they ate. The kids finished first and were soon staring at his plate and his _Chetes_.

With a long suffering sigh, he cut apart one of his remaining snacks and gave each one half. As they devoured it like starving varren he suddenly remembered how hungry small Turian children could get. Solana had for a time when she was growing, seemed never to get enough to eat; and loudly let anybody nearby know about it.

When he complained to his mother after one particularly noisy meal she informed him that he had been even worse and twice as loud. At the time he'd been quietly sure she was exaggerating. He was the ' _good_ ' offspring.

Still a bit hungry since more than half of his dinner had gone down the children's gullets, he got up to go back to the kitchen when he almost fell over Malli.

With an exclamation he twisted sideways almost slamming into the wall.

"Spirits!"

Tesen and Jinta quickly came to their feet; but eased slightly when they realized he was just avoiding the little girl.

"Malli." That was Tesen as he gently pulled her out of the way. "You have to warn people before you stand behind them."

Malli gave the slightest of clics, still clutching her furry whatever. Tesen sat her down in the chair next to him.

When Garrus looked over the kitchen counter it was to find three sets of impossibly big eyes watching his every move.

"Do you want more?" He asked, wondering if he was ever going to get enough to eat. He might not be that hungry but he would like to get enough in his stomach to quiet it.

"Yes!" Jinta squeaked she replied so fast.

"If you wouldn't mind, sir." Tesen said, the politer of the two. "We've never had anything like this." Garrus made a mental note to teach somebody in the house how to make _Chetes_ ; he had no intentions of getting stuck on mess duty.

"What of Malli?"

As he got out the ingredients ( _all fish this time_ ) he could make out the children murmuring between each other.

"Yes sir, she'd like some." Came Tesen's voice as Garrus washed off _Loak_ leaves.

With a sigh, Garrus got more leaves out of the cooler to put into the sink to be cleaned. Thankful, at least, that Joker wasn't anywhere around. The acerbic pilot would have been teasing him unmercifully about catering to kids. Calling him a, what was it humans said, a mother hen; and being twice as sarcastic as normal about it because many humans still compared Turians to birds of prey from earth.

 **Dasken**

Anna had immediately grabbed her before she could even get a taste of her dinner and dragged her into the little office off the main dining room. Then the two women started going over their finances. Dasken had her salary and some miniscule savings and Anna had quite a lot of money in her savings; and those in town who could, helped where and when they could. They always made up a budget from what they each could afford to spare, wisely not counting on donations. It was a good amount and fortunately they mostly didn't have to pay much for the dextro goods. If they'd been paying Palaven import prices they wouldn't have been able to buy even an eighth of what they needed.

Involved in money matters, Dasken hadn't been paying attention to what was going on in the main dining room. It was noisy, as usual, but after a time she realized that it wasn't quite as noisy as she expected it to be.

Pretty much finished, she excused herself from Anna and went back into the main room. Right away she could see why it was quieter than normal. Only the eldest of her charges were present. Shote, Lassa, and Lasan.

The human girls – Delia, Julia, Sue, and Lorrie were busy discussing either fashion or boys – she was never sure which. Jason had his nose in a data pad. And Mel, the littlest one was concentrating on eating.

"Shote, where are Tesen, Malli, and Jinta?"

The older boy looked up from his own plate. "They went into the kitchen a while ago, Tome."

With a mandible clic she went on down the short corridor into the kitchen. While they could and did ask the older children to keep an eye on the younger ones, Dasken made a practice of not doing it all the time. As a youngster she'd been tasked with keeping track of all her brothers and sisters and cousins; and she'd resented it. For a moment she sent a prayer to the Spirits asking them to watch over her family, those that had survived. With communications pretty much down, she had no idea how many that was – if any.

When she stepped into the kitchen it was to find Garat leaning against the counter watching the three youngest ones devouring something. Something that actually smelled pretty good. Anna, unfortunately, wanted them all eating healthy; but Turians really didn't do vegetarian.

On hearing her, Garat looked up and smiled ruefully. "They decided that my dinner looked far more interesting than their dinner."

"What are those?"

" _Chetes_." He told her. "My mother taught me how to cook them."

When he saw the look of confusion on her face, he wordlessly handed her a piece of steamed fish rolled up in leaves.

It was savory and a touch spicy and a welcome change from what they had been eating.

"That's pretty good." She wolfed it down and with a very long-suffering sigh he handed her another piece. "What else can you cook?"

"All I can do is _Chetes_." He straightened up and went back into the kitchen proper. "I'll teach someone how; but I'm no cook."

Jinta had followed him into the kitchen and was standing there holding her plate up to him. Dasken swore she was possessed of one of the human's hollow legs the way she ate.

Muttering under his breath, but with smile on his face, he took her plate and put a fresh one on it. He carefully cut it in pieces before he handed it back to her, with a smile.

"Jinta, what do you say?" She was stern.

Focused on her food, it took the little girl a moment and then. "Thank you Garat."

"You are welcome." He replied gravely.

Dasken let out a small chuff of amusement. It was rather funny to see Garat dealing with small children. From the way he acted he'd been around a little one at some time; but he wasn't going overboard so she was thinking that it had probably been a sibling or a cousin not a child of his own. He was treating them like little adults ( _she wished_ ) not cute and cuddly toys. That was Anna's specialty; but cute and cuddly wasn't really a Turian's thing – even a young one.


	19. Chapter 19 - Intentions

_Greetings All. Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there. I'm still here, still working on these stories. Suffering not so much from writer's block as writer's indecision. I'll keep plugging away though. Let me know what you think, or if I make a mistake. As always thank you for all your kindnesses. You take care and have a great day. Cheers._

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Intentions

 **Shepard**

Her answer seemed to have confounded Castis. He sat there, not quite gaping like a landed fish; but close.

Into the awkward silence came a derisive snort from Solana. "Typical Garrus."

Despite being shocked, Castis rallied. "Solana, he is a Praetor now."

That got another snort. "Might be a Praetor but he'll always be that rotten kid who put sticky _Takka_ pods in my bed."

Shepard wasn't sure what _Takka_ pods were, except that she was certain that they were something you didn't want to share a bed with.

"I…didn't know Garrus was quite that inventive." Victus cleared his throat; but Shepard was positive he was laughing in his sub harmonics.

Solana didn't make a smart remark back, Victus was the Primarch after all; but from what she read as a scowl on the woman's face, Shepard was sure that she wanted to.

"Do you have any further information on his movements, Commander?"

"I found from one of the Shadow Broker's agents that he left earth two nights after that. Apparently he'd been staying at a small motel, mostly intact, near one of the still standing air fields." Liara had done her best; but like everyone and everything else even her vast network had been seriously disrupted by the war.

"He seemed to have hopped from planet to planet for the next month or so, as he could get passage till he got to Remjin." Shepard told them. "Remjin is in a strategic location to be a jump off point for several different routes in several different directions now that the relays are malfunctioning." Shepard paused to stare out a window. "Here he disappears."

"Disappears?" Castis demanded.

"We lose track of him." She explained to the elder Vakarian. " "With so many ships coming and going, he could easily escape surveillance."

"Then he wanted to be out of the public eye." Castis stated. "My son was always exceptional at getting lost, deliberately." That earned another, quieter, snort from Solana.

"Has there been any further word of him?" Victus asked.

"No sir, though I'm sure the Shadow Broker will be looking. Garrus is, after all, a hero to not only Turians but most every other race." Silently she hoped that none of Archangel's enemies remained. Alone, even Garrus would be an easy target.

"What do you intend in regards to my Advisor?" The Primarch fixed her with those raptor sharp eyes.

Shepard sat up straighter; she'd been expecting this question.

"I want him back on the Normandy." She said bluntly. Victus appreciated bluntness she remembered.

Castis started to protest but Victus waved him silent.

"I need him with his people, Commander. Not doing Elcor and Varren shows."

Solana and Castis were thoroughly perplexed by the last comment. Vega was for a moment then he grinned as he figured it out.

"He will be working for his people, Primarch." Shepard explained, not backing down. "The Normandy is going to be out there helping anyone in anyway she can. A big part of that will be putting a stop to pirates and slavers that have begun raiding isolated colonies and ships. Including Turian ships and colonies."

 **Victus**

Knowing what he did, Victus hadn't been surprised when Shepard said she wanted Garrus back. While he did want the younger man's help with rebuilding Palaven, he also knew that he could not/would not split up a bonded pair. Even so odd a pair as Shepard and Vakarian. But he would see how far he could push her and what, if any, concessions she was willing to make.

"And if I say no, Commander." Victus didn't make it a threat, but rather a comment.

"I would hope that you wouldn't Primarch." She replied levelly, no fear in her voice or face. Not challenging but also not giving way. Ah, he thought, here was the soldier who had thwarted the Salarian Dalatrass, and calmed down a Krogan Battlemaster.

"Garrus has a duty to his people." Castis spoke up, displeasure lacing his sub harmonics.

"I am aware of that, sir." Shepard wasn't getting mad but neither was she backing down. "But he also was and is part of the crew that brought down the Reapers; and has been protecting the Galaxy and its people for years. A fine ambassador for the Turians all without meaning to be. Something, I'm sure, he learned from you."

That comment caught Castis completely by surprise, as Victus was certain it was meant to. Shepard wasn't going to agitate Garrus's father any more than she had to; but neither was she giving up. Victus respected that in her. It's what had helped her to defeat the Reapers.

Victus sat back in his chair; arms crossed over his chest and eyed the Commander. Shepard also sat back in her chair; arms crossed over her chest and returned his stare. He hid a smile, Vakarian had obviously taught her about dominance battles; and she was perfectly willing to challenge him.

As he was trying to figure out how to bring this to a draw. He respected her; but he wasn't going to defer to her in this situation. A couple of his generals came in, talking loudly. That broke the stare down, much to Victus's silent relief.

"Generals." Victus spoke up and they both straightened up with apologetic chirps. Not having been aware of him before. "We're having a private meeting if you wouldn't mind leaving us alone?"

With hasty apologies the two departed. Victus turned back to the Commander, who was still sitting back in the chair, arms crossed over her chest, eyeing him.

"When you find him." Victus was serious. "If I asked him to return for a short time to Palaven, would you let him go?"

"I'd have the Normandy itself bring him back to Palaven, Primarch." She didn't hesitate and Victus was quietly impressed. She wanted Garrus with her; but she also had accepted that he had duties to his planet and his people.

There was a low rumble of protest from Castis. Whatever Victus was willing to accept, the elder Vakarian was not so amenable.

"I have not given my okay to this arrangement." Castis snapped, startling Shepard. Victus, however, had been expecting this.

"You don't have much say in it, _Tomere_." Victus was firm but somewhat gentle. "Garrus is an adult now."

"He is my son."

For a couple of moments there was a tense silence and then.

"Dad, Garrus is going to pick his own path whether you like it or not." Solana spoke up, resigned.

"To achieve what." Castis snapped back. Obviously not willing to back down.

"He is one of the few aliens to ever receive the Star of Terra. The only Turian to be accounted A Friend of Tuchanka, a Praetor and an Advisor to the Primarch for his protocols that helped to save tens of thousands of Turians, and a hero to more than his own people." Shepard shot back. Victus was quietly pleased that she was well aware of what honors Garrus had accrued and apparently proud that he had gotten them. Some might be jealous but obviously she was not.

Castis was also well aware of what fame his son had garnered; but her mentioning it seemed to not have gone down well with the older man.

"He is…" Here Castis faltered for a moment.

"He is a hero and an adult, _Tomere_ , and we have little say in how he conducts his life as long as he does not bring shame on Palaven or the Turian people." Victus took over the conversation.

That apparently was too much for Castis and with a snarl he came to his feet and stalked from the room. Shepard looked to Victus, concerned.

"Did I chase him off, Primarch?"

"Yes and no." At her questioning look he went on. "He is deeply confused by your relationship with his son. Accepting it will take some time."

"Dad's been under a lot of stress lately." Solana added. "Worried about Garrus, myself, our people, our planet, our friends, and distant family."

"As have most of us." Victus commented. With a clic of her mandibles, Solana excused herself and followed after her father.

After a moment of thought, Victus looked at the Commander.

"Commander, I think we need to discuss this further. Can you stay the night?"

 **Shepard**

She was startled and almost reflexively said no then realized that she wasn't on any real time schedule. She wasn't looking forward to playing ' _twenty questions'_ with the Vakarians; but she truly needed to talk to Victus. "Of course, Primarch. If you've got room for us. There's me, Vega here, and our pilot Steve Cortez."

"More than enough room." Victus smiled, typing out something on his omni-tool.

"Just not too much walking up and down stairs." She told him, wincing, as she stood up for a moment to stretch her legs, which had stiffened from the inactivity.

"Understood. Sometimes the stairs get too be too much for even me." He told her.

Just then she heard some dull clunking and a moment later Cadet Hendan came in. He immediately came to a stop and went ramrod straight in a show of respect. Unfortunately his armor had other ideas. That one greave fell off, again, and his chest piece tried to slide down to his waist.

Shepard was biting the inside of her cheek, Vega was coughing heavily, and Victus was studying a painting on the far wall, very intently. All of them, she realized, in an effort to not laugh out loud at the gawky, earnest youngster.

"Cadet, I was about to call you." None of his amusement showed in Victus's voices, she was impressed. "Would you go and ready the visitor's suite for the Commander, then come back to show her to it."

"Yes sir." With that Hendan turned around with a chorus of clunks and squeaks, and left.

After he was out of range, they all started laughing.

"Madre de dios, poor nino." Vega commented. Victus looked at him in confusion; obviously his translator wasn't set for Vega's native tongue.

"Basically he means poor kid." Shepard chuckled. "Where ever did you find Hendan, Victus?"

"His parents sent him to me to be his mentor, during the war, they thought he be safer." Victus sighed.

"Safer?" Shepard barked. "Planetary leaders were always the first target for the Reapers."

"They weren't paying attention to anything but Palaven and our colonies and they have a decidedly unrealistic idea of my abilities."

"Then they and Hendan are extremely lucky that you're more than just capable, Primarch." She told him. Caught off guard, he was embarrassed for a moment.

Shepard grinned. obviously having recognized how he was feeling. He made a point of ignoring her; but he heard the faintest chuckle of amusement out of her.

"Primarch." They were interrupted as Whiteson walked in. "You wished to see me?"

"Yes, the Commander and her people are going to be staying the night." Victus told him.

As the two men began discussing arrangements, Shepard slipped off to the side and activated her omni-tool.

"Cortez?"

After a second an image of the pilot popped up.

" _Commander?"_

"Get the shuttle locked up or whatever you need. We're going to be spending the night." She told him.

" _Good. I was actually about to call and tell you that if we didn't leave right away we wouldn't be able to leave till morning."_

"Oh?"

" _A storm is coming in and flying in any kind of storm is risky these days, even in a shuttle like this. Too much debris in the air."_ He explained.

She instantly understood. Periodically, in the news, a shuttle or small star ship would be damaged badly or even brought down by the remnants of the war. All the various militaries were monitoring the debris fields now to keep everyone safe. She shuddered to think what would happen when the heavier stuff started falling back to earth.

She made a mental note that the Normandy would try to remove some of the larger pieces from orbit. Both forces had had some giant ships that had been destroyed leaving enormous pieces of metal circling the earth. It might not seem like doing much but it would mean that somewhere down the line no one would have to worry getting hit with the skeleton of a frigate or a destroyer sized Reaper.

"Will we be able to leave in the morning?"

" _Yes. The storm will blow itself out before then."_

"Good. The Primarch will be providing us with quarters." She said and he groaned faintly.

" _If that means I have to share a room with Vega, I'll sleep in the shuttle. He snores like a drive core going into melt down_." He complained.

She laughed. "I'll see what I can do Cortez; but you might be stuck with him for the night."

" _Whatever you say, Commander_." Cortez sounded resigned.

"Shepard out." With a chuckle she disconnected.

"Lieutenant Vega, you can be quartered on the same floor as the Commander or be in with the grounds keepers." Victus was telling the big N7.

"Gardeners?"

"Yes." Whiteson spoke up. "But all of them are either Special Forces or SAS. Gardening is their cover profession."

Vega's face brightened at that and Shepard had a bad feeling that there were going to be a lot of tall tale exchanges and one-ups man ship going on tonight. She just hoped that there was a minimum of alcohol involved.

"I believe my pilot would like a separate room, if you've got one?" Shepard spoke up.

"He doesn't wish to be quartered with the Lieutenant?" Victus was puzzled.

"Cortez likes to retire early; and I'm sure that Vega and Whiteson's people will be swapping stories for half the night." Shepard lied.

"Esteban complained about my snoring again, didn't he?" Vega groused.

"He might have mentioned something about your volume level." She admitted, not bothering to hide her smile.

That set Vega to muttering quietly to himself in his native tongue. Her translator couldn't catch all of it; but she was pretty sure most of it was curse words.

In a few moments Hendan came back in and took Shepard to her room. It might have been plain by the standards of this estate but it was impossibly ornate to her. She'd never, in her life, been in a canopy bed, and she almost needed a small ladder to get onto the bed. She bounced around a bit like a little kid, reveling in a mattress even softer than the one in the loft, which she hadn't thought possible.

She had a few hours until they'd have dinner, she was tired and sore from physical therapy, and after all she'd been through today, she decided to lay down. If nothing else, to rest her aching hip and legs.

So she did something she hadn't done since she was a little girl. She laid down for what was, to her, a decadent afternoon nap.

She didn't rest long; she wasn't sure she'd even fallen asleep. Despite being long past the end of the war she was still subconsciously listening for alarms or the deep brassy blaring horn of a Reaper.

After washing her face and neatening herself up, she stepped outside her room. She was expecting Hendan, who she found instead was Solana Vakarian.

She was a little startled to see the younger woman. Solana had changed out of her cobalt blue armor and was now wearing a cobalt blue tunic and pants. A uniform of some sort if Shepard read it right. On one shoulder was an ornate patch. She recognized it as one for the medical branch of the Hierarchy. She'd seen a couple of those on Menae when she'd gone to get the Primarch.

"Ms. Vakarian?"

Solana grimaced at that. "Please just Solana. Ms. Vakarian is what my primary school instructors used to call me when I was in trouble."

Shepard laughed at that. "I got Miss J. Shepard when I was bad. Grade school teachers are scary no matter what species you are."

Solana laughed with her at that one.

The two started walking down the hallway. Solana tailoring her stride to Shepard's smaller one. She might be shorter than Garrus but she was still taller than Shepard.

"How is your father?"

Solana let the air whistle out past her teeth. "My father is still badly confused. He went down to the gym to find someone to spar with, release some stress."

"I'm sure Lieutenant Vega would have been willing to go a few rounds with him." Shepard told her.

"Probably not a good idea, Commander. My father has never really sparred with a human. I don't know that he'd know how to moderate his blows, particularly given how upset he currently is." Solana told her and Shepard nodded. She tended to forget that most Turians hadn't had Garrus's exposure to humans.

"What do you think of this matter, Solana?" Shepard decided to go straight to the heart of the matter.

Solana came to a halt, looking out a nearby window at what was now was a driving rain.

"I don't know Commander. I know that Garrus changed while he was with you. Not in a bad way; but in some way I couldn't fully understand. Dad didn't really see it, or if he did, he didn't bother to check it out." The younger woman explained. "Now though, I think I understand. He's gone from, what do you say, hero worship to caring deeply for you as a person not as just his superior."

Jess colored at that. "I care for him too, Solana. Not just as one of my crew; but as I told your father, as Garrus. A friend, a voice of reason." She got a disbelieving snort from Solana at that one. "Well sometimes he was." She admitted. "He is also brave, strong, intensely loyal, gentle, and.." She added with a chuckle, ".. sometimes incredibly awkward."

Startled, Solana laughed at that. "Yeah, that's my idiot brother all right. Apparently quite the complete Turian right up until he trips over his own spurs."

Shepard burst out laughing at that, having seen Garrus do just that once or twice. Though it was usually when he'd had a little too much to drink, like the time that Wrex had slipped him some ryncol. She decided then and there that whatever happened, she liked Solana Vakarian.


	20. Chapter 20 - Ramping Up

_Greetings All. I hope that life is treating you all well. Wishing all those who celebrate a safe and sane Fourth of July and all those who don't a wonderful day. Still working on this story. This section may require one more chapter, because these characters tend to get on a page and take it over. LOL Many thanks to all of you for your kindnesses. You help make this all worth it. As always these characters and this wondrous Universe belong to Bioware - I'm just playing with them and get no money out of it._

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Ramping Up

 **Shepard**

Her nap hadn't completely eased the soreness and strain in Shepard's legs and hips; but damn if she'd give in to the pain.

Solana and she walked slowly towards the dining room. The more they talked the more Shepard decided that she liked the younger Vakarian.

"You remind me of your brother." She'd commented off handedly as they walked and almost broke into laughter at the expression of horror on Solana's face.

"Humph," Came a very irritated sniff from Solana. "I am nothing like Praetor Vakarian."

The way she said Praetor reminded Shepard of exactly the way she and her siblings used to talk trash about each other; and she had to smother her chuckles. From the irritated mandible movements she noticed on the younger woman, obviously not well enough.

Their conversation was interrupted when they came around the corner and ran into one Turian berating another.

The other male was almost as big as Garrus and Shepard thought she recognized the insignia on his armor as that of a Praetor.

Then Shepard realized that the other Turian was the young cadet Hendan. Though it could be hard to tell with Turians, the youngsters hadn't yet learned how to school their features; and Hendan was looking decidedly embarrassed and ashamed.

"Medic Vakarian." The other male brightened at Solana's presence and left off dressing down the cadet.

"Praetor Temkal." Solana said formally, arms crossed over her chest. Temkal seemed taken aback at her decided coldness.

Meanwhile, given the beaten look on the youngster's face; and what she could sense of his sub harmonics, Shepard decided to intervene.

"Cadet Hendan." She smiled at the youngster and he brightened up slightly. "Would you mind showing me to the officer's dining room?"

Temkal turned on her, trying to loom; but she'd been loomed at by experts. "I'm not through dealing with the Cadet, human." It was a toss up which one he said with more venom.

Both Solana and Hendan were startled by his attitude towards Shepard.

"That's Commander Shepard, Praetor." Hendan spoke up, still in awe of her.

The Praetor swung back around on the boy, obviously more irritated at him for speaking up then at what he'd said. Shepard wasn't even sure he'd paid attention to Hendan.

She was a guest here, but damn if she would tolerate bullies of any species.

"Praetor Temkal, is it?" She fearlessly stepped in front of Hendan, planing to block the older man if he intended to physically strike the boy. "I'm Commander Jess Shepard."

Confronted by the reality of Shepard standing right in front of him, Temkal finally acknowledged her.

"Commander Shepard." He'd dialed back on his contempt; but Shepard thought she could still pick up traces of it in his sub harmonics. Being around and with Garrus had given her a crash course in Turian sub harmonics. Not that she'd reveal that to anyone, least of all the Turian standing in front of her.

"How can I help you, Commander?"

"If you don't mind, I'm just going to borrow Cadet Hendan Praetor." She smiled though it didn't reach her eyes. "I need him to show me to the dining room. I don't want to keep the Primarch waiting." She didn't hesitate to drop Victus's name; fairly sure that that would impress Temkal.

She wasn't wrong. The Praetor's face shifted into what she recognized as interest.

"Ah, I didn't know that." The older man turned on Hendan and Shepard could see the boy tense ever so slightly.

"Cadet, you will take the Commander where she needs to go. We'll resume our talk later."

"Yes, Praetor." Hendan's voice was so subdued, it wasn't even squeaking.

As he turned to go, he smiled at Solana, obviously having forgotten her earlier greeting.

"Medic Vakarian."

"Praetor." Solana hadn't relaxed her stance one bit, but Temkal didn't seem to notice as he strode away.

As soon as he was out of sight and hearing range.

"Bully." Solana spat out. That wasn't what she'd really said but what Shepard's translator put out.

"I hate bullies." Shepard commented.

"Temkal gives Turians a bad name, as you say."

"Commander." Hendan's voice was still very quiet. "Medic Vakarian could have shown you the way."

"Yes, she could; but I wanted to make sure I had someone in case she got called away. She is a medic." Shepard lied easily. Determined not to tell the boy the truth; because he'd, no doubt, be embarrassed. Behind his back, Solana gave her a thumbs up sign. Shepard had to wonder if she'd learned that from Garrus.

They started walking again, Hendan kindly offering Shepard an arm to support herself with. She could tell the youngster had a good heart – now if his voice would just stop squeaking. Of course, that greave fell off – again. Solana picked it up, without comment, and handed it to him.

"Maybe you should consider using duct tape to keep that on." Shepard suggested.

"Duct tape, what's that?" Hendan questioned.

"Ask Whiteson, he can probably better explain it." She quickly got out of what would have been a very long and very involved explanation.

With Solana on one side and Hendan providing support on the other, they reached the dining room in no time.

Whiteson was waiting at the door and he showed the three of them in.

To her immense embarrassment, at a barked command from Victus, everyone in the dining room instantly stood at her entrance.

Victus had walked over.

"Commander."

"Primarch, what's all this?" She was sure her cheeks must be turning red.

"A simple declaration of thanks from my people." He told her.

"We all did it together Victus." She protested as he gently took her arm from Hendan.

"But you were the head of the spear. You warned all of us; and you did whatever you could to prepare us and strengthen us. Victus was dead serious. "You deserve all this and more."

She hadn't thought she could blush any deeper but she was wrong. She must look like a tomato by now. She heard the faintest of chuffs from Victus and realized that he both understood her reaction and was amused by it. Smart-ass. What was it with her and smart assed Turians.

Victus must have given a signal because everyone sat back down again. Victus motioned her to his table where Solana, Castis, and someone she thought was a doctor were sitting. Hendan had been about to leave when Victus motioned him back to the table and quietly told him to join them.

Puzzled and very surprised the youngster settled into a seat warily, like he expected it to bite him.

Shepard noticed that there were a couple of empty seats that had table settings and wondered what that was about; and where Vega and Cortez were.

Her question was partially answered just then as Whiteson ushered in two Alliance soldiers. One was an older male, pale thinning hair, a little out of shape, a Lieutenant Colonel. The other was a younger female Sergeant, dusky skin and dark hair. Sporting a number of scars that said she was a field officer. From the way she was armed, Shepard thought she might have been a guard of sorts for the older man. Reapers might be gone; but that didn't mean that there weren't still bad guys around, particularly as a lot of Aria's forces had survived. They were dressed in clean but slightly wrinkled BDUs, like most of Shepard's crew.

"Ah." Victus stood up with what she thought might have been a smirk on his face. " If it isn't Lieutenant Colonel John Armitage."

From the scowl that crossed the human's face, he wasn't too fond of that greeting. She noticed the woman holding in a grin.

"Greetings, oh Primarch of Palaven, General Adrien Victus."

Victus didn't look too happy at his greeting either. Shepard wondered exactly what was going on. Victus had never demanded that kind of formality on board the Normandy.

Solana, who was sitting next to her, leaned over and whispered. "Apparently, they deliberately annoy each other by using all of their formal titles. Which neither really like."

Shepard smothered a laugh. Okay, now she understood. It was a silly game of one upsmanship the two were engaged in. In an odd way it pleased her, that the two were friends enough to do this. The memories of the Relay 314 incident had begun to recede.

Teasing aside, Victus turned to her.

"Commander Shepard may I introduce Lieutenant Colonel John Armitage, head of Alliance forces in this area and Sergeant Flic Mazera, one of his officers."

"Lieutenant Colonel, Sergeant it's a pleasure to meet you." With a smile she forced herself to her feet.

"The honor is ours, Commander. It's not everyday you get the privilege of meeting the Savior of the Galaxy." Armitage said smoothly; and stepping forward, took her hand, bent over and kissed it. She was thoroughly startled at that, hand kissing was a very courtly, ancient custom. Farm girls from Mindoir didn't get their hands kissed.

"Is he trying to eat her hand?" She faintly heard Hendan question and she had to bite down on her cheek to keep from bursting into laughter. Trust a youngster to put things in perspective.

She got quiet, ignoring the blush she was sure she was sporting. "This Savior of the Galaxy thing is for somebody noble, Lieutenant Colonel, not me. Like you, I was just a soldier, one of thousands, millions doing my job."

Peripherally, she noticed Castis react to what she had to say; but she wasn't sure in what way he was responding. Did he admire her humility or was he disgusted by it. On the fine points of honor and duty it could sometimes be hard to tell what a Turian might think about it.

When the Lieutenant Colonel stepped back, the young woman stepped forward. Not quite at attention but showing respect in her posture.

"Commander, this is an honor. Sergeant Flic Mazera at your service" Then she smirked, just exactly like Vega would. "Sorry, not into hand kissing."

"Mazera!" Armitage admonished her as Shepard chuckled, instantly liking the woman.

"It's alright Armitage." She told him and with a grin, shook the younger woman's hand. In that moment she was reminded, a lot, of Ash.

"Primarch, I don't see Vega or Cortez?" She'd glanced around at all the other tables but saw only Turians.

"They're dining with my staff, Commander." Whiteson told her. "Last I saw there was a lot of talk of past exploits going on."

She grinned, knowing exactly what he meant. "Vega and Garrus used to try to one up each other with tall tales of past accomplishments. They'll be at that for hours."

The introductions over, they all sat down and the staff started serving.

To Shepard's pleasant surprise there was actually real food – not something preprocessed, replicated, e-rats, or nutrient paste. The server – Adelaide – apologized for it only being a thick stew made from a bunch of chickens that hadn't moved fast enough to avoid an APC; and some veggies. Potatoes and carrots.

Shepard assured her that it was perfect; and it was. She hadn't had food like this since Mindoir.

From what she could see of the Turian's plates they were also eating real food of some kind.

Meanwhile, she was well aware that Castis was observing her, given his C-Sec background, he was, no doubt, analyzing everything she did or said. She didn't know whether to be upset by this or not. Part of her wanted to be; but, then again, this was Garrus's father and he had a right to be concerned about and for his son.

Victus had noticed and he clicked his mandibles at the older man to get his attention. For a few moments she was sure some kind of sub harmonic exchange was going on between the two; but it was in a range she couldn't hear. After a moment, Castis let out an annoyed huff and went back to eating.

"You're doing uplift tours, Commander." Armitage commented, more statement than question, drawing her attention away from them.

"I was."

That caught the attention of everyone at the table as she went on.

"I'm going back to what I should have been doing for the last year – not ' _dog and pony'_ shows."

"Varren and Elcor?" Castis and Solana were thoroughly confounded and she realized that their translators had tried for an approximation and missed by a mile.

"Means putting on show/ a demonstration. Sometimes to promote something – sometimes.." Here she grew grim. "..to distract people from something."

"And what is it you feel you should have been doing, Commander?" Surprisingly it was Castis who spoke up. Solana glared at him and Shepard suspected that he was getting the sub harmonic version of _'DAD, behave yourself_!'

"Helping the galaxy get back on its feet – however I can." She told them. "And stopping all those who've begun to prey on the innocent."

"You'll need a ship for that." Castis went on.

"I have a ship – the Normandy." She stated.

"So they are giving her back to you?" Victus commented.

Trust Victus to know that almost nothing could keep her from the Normandy.

"Yes." She trusted Victus and by extension Armitage. "I'm getting a crew together now."

"Are you going to be serving on the ground crew, Commander?" The doctor, Jakan if she remembered rightly, asked her.

Of course a doctor would recognize her true condition; and she sighed inwardly.

"At the moment, no. I'm not fit to be on a ground crew." She was honest.

"Then how will you serve?" Castis wasn't accusing; but neither was he fully accepting.

"I'll command from either the Normandy or a shuttle." She explained. "The ground crew will be doing the actual fighting."

"That's why you want Vakarian?" Victus was shrewd.

"Yes. Garrus has been on my ground crew from the start. He knows the way I/we work – even more he is a formidable soldier."

"He is also Turian and has a duty to his people." Castis coldly reminded her. "As one of her heroes."

"A moment Vakarian." Victus intervened. "As the Commander said earlier – this will also benefit our people. They are being attacked as much the others."

From the set of Castis's facial plates, he was thoroughly unimpressed with the Primarch's logic. All during this time, Solana had remained quiet – listening and analyzing if Shepard had to guess. Apparently Castis had passed his analytical abilities on to both his off spring. She also noticed that Mazera was whispering to Armitage but she was focused on Victus and Castis.

"I assume that Lieutenant Vega will also be on the ground crew?" Here Victus smiled, he was very familiar with the big N7.

"Yes, as will a Kolyat Krios – he's C-Sec." She explained.

"That is a very small ground crew, Commander." Victus commented.

"Yes. I'd really prefer to have at least seven to eight people so I can rotate them and someone with an injury can set out; but pickings are rather slim at the moment."

"So, you are actively looking for more people?" Armitage inquired.

"For the regular crew and the ground crew. If you know anybody – send 'em my way." She told him.

"Only humans?" That was Jakan.

"Species doesn't matter to me, doctor. Fighting ability does." She told him. "I once had a Krogan, a Quarian, a biotic human, an Asari, and, of course, Vakarian. Together we took down Saren and Sovereign."

There were nods and clics of agreement.

"Do you wish me to ask if any of my soldiers want to go with you?" Victus asked, to her surprise. She wanted Garrus; but she'd also take any other Turian soldiers she could get her hands on. Figuring if they were still standing then they were pretty damn good fighters.

"If you can spare them, Primarch. I don't want to deprive you of an able body." She told him then after a moment of thought, added. "They just have to be able to tolerate being on a human based ship. I know that it can be somewhat difficult for a Turian."

Difficult was an understatement, she thought. Garrus had once listed all the things that used to bother him about the SR-1. Everything from temperature ( _too cool_ ), to weird harmonics, to low bulkheads, and short beds.

"Will you be able to provide all the vital necessities a Turian or Turians might need?" Jakan leaned forward, intent.

"We took care of Garrus on the SR-1 and Victus and his people on the SR-2 during negotiations." She told him.

Jakan glanced at Victus who gave him a mandible clic of agreement.

"What of medical care?" Solana spoke up for the first time.

"That's something I'm still working on." She sighed.

"No Dr. Chakwas?" Victus had met the older woman when he had been on board for negotiations. Knew her to be a dedicated doctor with a wide range of knowledge – witness her saving Vakarian's life when he'd been hit by a rocket.

"She's still caring for patients recovering from the Reaper war; and I WILL NOT deprive them of her care." Shepard told him.

"As are many of our physicians, Commander." Jakan admitted. "I think all our doctors will be busy for several years to come."

She had to agreed with him on that.

She went on. "So I'm hunting a physician or even physicians if they have other skills to offer."

"What about me." Solana suddenly offered.

"Solana!" Castis was aghast, and Shepard was frankly surprised at that.

"Dad, somebody has to take care of…the Praetor..if they find him." The young woman told her father.

"Oh, I'll find him." Shepard projected more confidence than she really felt. She winced inwardly though, while she wholeheartedly welcomed the younger woman, particularly as a medic; Castis was not/would not be happy with having not just one but possibly both of his children on the Normandy.

"I forbid this." Castis stated and Shepard figured that was the end of the matter.

"Dad, you can't forbid me anymore." Solana returned calmly but firmly, no upset in her voice that Shepard could hear. "I'm an adult."

Castis looked ready to continue the argument when Victus intervened.

"Tomere." Shepard didn't recognize that term; but her translator put out that it was an honorific for an older Turian. "She is right. She is an adult and free to do as she wishes within the bounds of our rules and conventions."

"But…." Castis protested weakly.

"Dad, I'm not really needed here anymore; and it would be fascinating to finally travel the galaxy when monsters aren't trying to kill me." Now Solana shifted from the soldier to the daughter. "I know this isn't what you wanted; but I want to do more than just tend to the wounded and recovering. Though that is important also."

Castis sat for a few moments, looking and, if she was to guess, sounding unhappy in his sub harmonics.

"Castis, your son followed the Commander for years and, despite everything, she brought him back fairly unharmed." Victus reminded him.

At that, Castis looked to Shepard who nodded solemnly. "I give you my word, sir, Solana will as safe as is possible."


	21. Chapter 21 - Learning the Ropes

_Salutations Everyone. I hope all goes well for you. Trying to speed up on writing chapters but I'd sooner do it good than do it fast. I hope you're still enjoying this story and thanks for all your kindnesses. You rock. Have a wonderful weekend. Cheers, Fran._

* * *

Learning the Ropes

 **Garrus**

He'd expected a quiet meal away from everyone, what he got was pandemonium. Even the Normandy's mess with Jack and Grunt challenging each other to arm wrestling hadn't been quite this insane. Before he knew it, all of the Turian kids were in the kitchen. That he could have dealt with; but they were eating his food; and Dasken wasn't helping as she was sitting at the table with them also eating his food.

To add to the matter, Jinta was following him around, peppering him with questions about his hacking programs, in between wolfing down _Chetes_. He was deliberately vague with her; something told him that any edge you gave her – she take and multiply; and he had no desire to get into a hacking war.

He and Tali had once engaged in that on the SR-1, with Tali coming out the clear victor. Then again, when he'd challenged her to a sniping contest – she could barely lift the rifle he'd given her ( _a juvenile's sniper_ ); and the recoil literally knocked her on her bottom. He'd never been called a _bosh'tet_ so many times in one minute.

And, if he wasn't wrong, it looked like the adolescent Lassa was beginning to take an interest in him. A romantic interest. Which meant that her brother was now glaring at him; as was Shote, the unofficial group leader/protector.

Spirits, he did not need that on top of everything else. All he'd wanted was to get something to eat before going to bed.

He made up the last batch of _Chetes_ , having finally run out of Loak leaves, and putting one aside in a container for himself, put the rest on a platter and took them to the table. He set the platter down on the table, stood back, and let everybody dive in.

While they were occupied he went back into the kitchen, he'd already washed the pan and his other utensils, and out the back way. Only stopping to grab his coat. He just wanted to be alone and not get stuck cooking for that mob.

 **Dasken**

Garat had delivered a very large platter of _Chetes_ and everybody was digging in when Anna came out to the kitchen.

"Dasken what's this?" She indicated the semi-ravaged platter. All the kids stopped eating, somewhat guiltily.

"A Palaven dish that Garat cooked up." Looking around, she realized that the younger man was nowhere to be seen. "The kids decided it looked better than what they had and got him to cook them some."

"We really need to eat healthy, Dasken." Anna made a tisking noise as she went to pick up the platter.

"No Anna, leave it be." Dasken put her hand on the plate to keep it on the table. "Your idea of eating healthy does NOT work for Turians."

"But…" Anna began.

"No, I was trying to go along with you; but we are carnivores, Anna. Turians do not do vegetarianism."

"But…." Anna began again.

"No." Dasken stood up to confront her. "The way you want these kids to eat would starve them...was beginning to starve them."

Anna looked horrified at that. "I just wanted…"

"I know what you want Anna, and you have good intentions." Dasken eased her tone a bit. "But Turians ARE NOT humans. I've told you that many times and you just can't seem to understand."

Dasken could see the kids looking back and forth between the two of them, very intent on the conversation. She'd heard the muttered complaints and slight whines of displeasure the last few days as the kids endured a diet that was not what a growing Turian needed. Garat's _Chetes_ had just brought it all to the surface.

"I'll oversee the kid's diets from now on." She told Anna. "And I'll see to it that they have a healthy Turian diet."

Anna looked crestfallen but willing to accept the new turn of events. Spirits knew the woman meant well she just couldn't seem to get, or keep, the basic difference between humans and Turians in her head.

It meant extra work for Dasken; but keeping the kids healthy and happy was more than worth it; besides she would get the kids to help in the kitchen. Give them something to do.

She thought about asking Garat to help but decided against that. He'd made it clear that cooking was not going to be one of his duties. She was going to get his recipe for _Chetes_ though. They had been universally popular with all the kids – and her if she was being honest; and seemed to be something that took a minimum amount of ingredients and preparation time.

After Anna left, Dasken and the kids finished the _Chetes_ , then she made them all wash their plates and put them in the dish drainer. As she washed the platter, she noticed that Garat had cleaned the pan and his plate before he'd left.

"All right children, get ready for bed." She told the youngsters as they were sitting around the dining table. There were groans of displeasure; but with reasonably full stomachs they went off without too much fuss.

"Shote, you and the twins see that they clean their teeth, change into their sleep tunics, and get into bed." She ordered the older kids. "I'll check on them later."

"Yes Dasken." That was Lasan, the male half of the twins. She thought he might be, as Anna said, developing a crush on her. She hoped not; but, at least, it was fairly normal behavior for a youngster his age. Up until a few months ago, none of them had been exhibiting fully normal behavior.

With that they all disappeared down the hallway. From the sounds of it, the human kids were also, reluctantly, being herded off to bed.

Dasken figured that it would be, at least, an hour before they all settled down and tried to get to sleep. Between the novelty of somebody new at the compound, and the storm she could hear and sense was coming in; they were all restless.

Grabbing something out of the cooling unit, she headed out the back way after picking up a couple of umbrellas. She was still getting used to the human device. It was practical if a little unwieldy. At least she wasn't a male. Jostel's fringe, she stifled a keen of loss, had often gotten hung up in the things, much to his frustration and her vast amusement.

 **Garrus**

Once inside his quarters, after he locked the door, he made his way to the kitchen. It was a bit dusty, no dustsheets, but that was easily remedied. The cooling unit had been turned off and he had to reactivate it. A simple procedure.

He left the cooling unit to get up to speed as he wiped down the counters. The unit was very efficient and in no time he could put his _Chetes_ in to stay fresh.

He decided, if they'd let him, he stock some basic food out here so he didn't have to go to the main house. He didn't mind the kids, save when they took all his food, rather it reminded him, too painfully, of those quiet days on the Normandy when the mess seemed to be the center of the ship. A dining place, meeting room; and some nights – a place to play poker. Wrex embraced it but Grunt had distained it. ' _The tank did not speak of things like this_.' With Grunt either the tank hadn't mentioned it, or whatever it mentioned hadn't stuck, or it stuck and he knew he couldn't listen to it. Like twenty ways to disable a Turian. That was one conversation he hadn't wanted to have with the tank bred.

He put himself to cleaning up the rest of the kitchen; giving himself over to the task. Rather like his Thanx calibrations – he could lose himself in the simple mindlessness of it. For several minutes he wiped down, swept up, and rinsed off. Despite the dust it didn't take very long until the kitchen was fully usable again.

He was just putting away his cleansing pads when the lights flickered and a soft alarm sounded. He came alert as it did that again. Then he heard someone knocking at the front door. As he made for the door he realized that locking the door must have activated some form of alarm/alert system. Something else he'd have to find.

He got to the door, a small vid screen had been activated on the back of it and he could see it was Dasken. He opened the door, unsure of what she wanted.

"Tome?"

"Ugh, don't call me that. I'm not that old yet." She grumbled.

"Come in." He invited her in when she didn't move.

She slipped inside and he gladly closed the door. The wind had begun to pick up and it was cold.

"Only going to stay a minute. The rain is coming and I don't want to get wet." She told him as she handed over two packages. One was some sort of weird device, human he assumed, made of fabric, plastic, and metal. It was yellow with the head of some strange creature for a handle.

"It's an umbrella. It keeps the rain off." She explained. "Just watch your fringe – it might get caught in the upper spokes." She took the device back for a moment and demonstrated how to open/use it. He was a little startled by it opening with something of a snap. She pointed out the spokes she'd mentioned and then closed the thing back up. He wasn't sure whether not getting wet was worth dealing with the thing.

The second package was a couple of portions of a Turian sweet jerky, made from dried fruits. He hadn't had any of this since just before basic.

"I wanted to apologize for us taking all your food." She sounded embarrassed. "Kids have been on a mostly vegetable diet for the last couple of weeks and the _Chetes_ just smelled irresistible."

"Why mostly vegetables?" With growing Turians he knew that was not a good diet, it could stunt them.

"Anna thought we should eat healthy." She explained. "But she can't seem to get it into her head that we are fundamentally different species; and a healthy diet for Turians, particularly growing ones, contains a lot of meat."

"You went along with this?" It wasn't quite an accusation but his sub harmonics roughened.

"Anna goes through what Miss Tannenfeld calls fads." Dasken was embarrassed now. "She gets deeply involved in something for a couple of weeks then loses interest. I thought she would do that with this diet thing; but she wasn't losing interest. I told her tonight – no more – the kids need meat in their diet if they are to grow healthy and strong. She backed off."

He relaxed at her explanation. He realized that he couldn't know what kind of accommodations she had to make to work with Anna and keep the kids healthy and safe.

She picked up the understanding in his sub harmonics and signaled her thanks.

"We also didn't mean to drive you out of the kitchen." She went on.

"It just brought up memories I wasn't ready to face." He told her a partial truth. Then he went on. "And I wasn't as ready as I thought to deal with Jinta."

Dasken groaned. "She was interrogating you wasn't she?"

"She could give a C-Sec investigator lessons." Garrus chuffed a bit at the thought of his father tangling with Jinta. He wasn't sure who would win. That earned him a curious head tilt from Dasken; but he didn't enlighten her.

"Ah…" Now it was his turn to be embarrassed. "..I might be wrong but I think Lassa is getting interested in me."

"Spirits, you're probably right." She exclaimed. "Lasan is getting interested in me."

"Is this normal?" Garrus hadn't really been around when Solana had been going through this stage.

"Yes, and we're the right age for a juvenile to get attracted to us."

"I don't know whether that's a compliment or not." He rumbled. "What do we do?"

"It will pass, hopefully quickly." She told him. "Just be careful to not end up somewhere with just you and her. All her knowledge comes from vids and you know how wrong they can be."

It was his turn to groan in agreement as she turned to go.

She stopped before opening the door. "Tomorrow morning about six thirty." She told him. "Meet me by the main gates."

"Jorge will be open that early?"

"No, but you can hang out at the Citadel until he gets in." With that she left.

He locked up and went to see about getting ready for the morning; pausing for a moment to finally give in and savor his good memories of Shepard. She was now a part of him and always would be; and nothing Renfield could do would block that.


	22. Chapter 22 - Oddballs

_Surprise and Greetings good folk. I actually managed to get three chapters done in about two week. Woo hoo. Hoping you're still enjoying this tale. At least, it's coming easier than Each in Their Own Way. I'm suffering not from Writer's Block but from Writer's Confusion on that one - not sure which way to go. I'll figure it out though. In the meantime thank you for all your kindnesses. You people rock. Have a great one. Cheers, Fran_

* * *

Oddballs

 **Shepard**

All things considered it was a successful dinner. The matter of Garrus hadn't been completely resolved; and she had a feeling that Castis would have a lot more to say whether Victus was good with the situation or not. She didn't look forward to dealing with the prickly elder Vakarian; but she did understand where he was coming from. He was a father and Garrus, despite their differences, was his only son.

Otherwise she'd gotten far more than she'd bargained for when she flew over here. She now had a battle tested Turian field medic; also, surprisingly a couple of Victus's people had volunteered to join her forces. A Sergeant Jask Hazlon, who, according to Victus, had served with Garrus and Victus on Menae. If he was still here, and in one piece, that was good enough for her. She clearly remembered what kind of dangerous madhouse Menae had been.

A demolitions expert called Maas Yelter had also wanted to come along. Out of the woman's hearing Victus had cautioned her that Yelter could get a bit enthusiastic about blowing things up. To Shepard's mind, that was just a plus. If you were going to blow things up then do it big. Victus had looked at her doubtfully when she said that.

She'd also gotten a couple of volunteers from Armitage. Sergeant Mazera had happily volunteered once Armitage had okayed it; and she'd worked with both Turians and Krogan – so bonus that. The other volunteer was the man who'd been the doctor for Mazera's mixed team. A Dr. Evan Triskal. He'd come along with the other two but had gone off to talk to the estate's human medic. After meeting him, she was reminded, rather forcefully, if a bit sadly, of Mordin Solus. Excitable, talkative, always willing to experiment; and unfortunately, with Mordin's complete lack of social awareness. At least this time, no 'sex' talks – she hoped. She didn't ask about Gilbert and Sullivan.

The one addition she hadn't been expecting was Cadet Hendan. After dinner, Victus had pulled her aside; and to her surprise asked if she would consider taking Hendan along for a couple of months.

"Is he ready to go into combat, Victus?"

"Not really though he can fight and has." The Primarch was honest.

"Then why send him to a ship where one of the main goals is to stop pirates and slavers?" She was blunt.

"He'll be a good soldier once he finishes growing." Victus explained. "But, right now, his awkwardness has focused other's attentions on him. They are frustrated over being stuck here and worried about their families, their lives; and his clumsiness makes him a convenient target. Particularly as he won't fight back nor will he come to me to complain."

"Praetor Temkal?" Shepard guessed.

Victus let out a chirp of irritation. "Yes. He in particular seems to harass the boy. I tell him to leave him alone; but he always has what he considers a perfectly logical reason for his harsh treatment."

"Yeah, Solana and I caught him scolding Hendan, that's why I asked the boy to guide me to the dining room." Victus looked and sounded irritated.

"Thank you for your consideration, Commander."

"Hell, I've seen enough human kids who were a version of Hendan; and enough older soldiers who were the human version of Temkal. I understand what you're dealing with."

She thought for a moment. Victus wasn't demanding that she take the boy, he was asking; and for the boy's sake.

"How good is he at being an aide?"

Victus was a bit taken aback. "I don't know Commander. He'd be very conscientious about any duty you give him; but he is, unfortunately, exceedingly clumsy.

She decided that she'd take clumsy over officious any day of the week. She just hoped it wouldn't come back to haunt her.

So now, they were flying back to the Normandy with a full shuttle. Solana, Hazlon, Yelter, and Hendan plus Mazara and Triskal. Vega, of course, was delighted to have the Sergeant along and Shepard could foresee him flirting outrageously with her.

"So _chica_ …" Vega began, having shifted to being next to her.

She gave him an appraising look and turned to Shepard. "He the ship flirt?"

Shepard smothered a laugh at Vega's injured look. "Yes."

"Lola you wound me." The big N7 protested.

"Vega, you flirt with all the girls." Shepard tossed back at him.

The Turian female – Yelter – glanced up from the data pad she was studying. Shepard had caught a glimpse of it and what looked to be explosive parameters.

"Am I going to have to worry about him?"

"I don't know." Shepard commented. "She going to have to worry about you, Jimmy?"

Vega sputtered at that, unsure of what he could or should say. He liked Turians but as friends nothing more; but was afraid of insulting anyone.

After a moment, Yelter grinned and went back to her data pad. She could hear a chuff of amusement from Hazlon and Solana, and Mazera was grinning ear to ear. Like Yelter, Triskal was nose deep in a data pad and hadn't even heard the conversation. Hendan looked like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or not.

Vega was mumbling under his breath for the rest of the flight, Shepard ignored him. She had a feeling he'd met his match in both Mazera and Yelter.

Shepard had Cortez call ahead and warn Joker and by extension Alenko and Orson that they had some new people coming in. Also to have someone set up the secondary lounge for four Turians. She wasn't going to ask them to use human sized pod beds.

She avoided talking to Alenko and Orson herself. She had no desire to do twenty questions with those two more than once.

Her session with Castis had been bad enough. The elder Vakarian had wavered between reluctant acceptance and uncertain denial; and Solana's deciding to go with Shepard hadn't helped his mood.

To her immense relief, Solana had joined their discussions, which Victus was also monitoring. If Castis felt over whelmed he didn't show it. Now Shepard knew where Garrus had gotten his toughness. The elder Vakarian had passed it on to his son; and she suspected, also his daughter.

"What do you intend doing about this bond, Commander?" Castis demanded, though she didn't feel any harshness in his sub harmonics.

"I intend to locate Garrus and find out why he ran." She told him.

"And if he does not wish to be with you anymore?" Castis asked bluntly.

That was one thing that sometimes kept her up at night. Why had Garrus run, why had he not stayed or even left a message for her. On her bad days, when she hurt or had over exerted herself, she thought that maybe he hadn't really cared for her – it was just stress relief.

Then she'd remember all the quiet times, the alone times when he had no one to impress and hadn't tried. When he'd been focused on her to the exclusion of his own health even. And she still heard that piercing keen that had carried over the bellow of Harbinger as she turned to run for the beam. A keen that told her he thought he would never see her again; and that he wished only to follow her – in life or in death.

"One thing at a time, sir. I have to find him first." She dodged the question and by the look in his eyes, he knew exactly what she was doing.

"I thought you said you would?" Castis obviously had a VERY good memory. _Damn_.

"I will; but this is a very large galaxy to be hunting one Turian in, and I'd be a fool to not acknowledge the difficulty of the task."

She didn't mention that they, she and Garrus, in the latter part of their relationship had discovered that they had developed an awareness of each other's presence. She had found it out one day when, without thinking about it, she had known exactly where on the ship he was. And it was not in the battery that time. It wasn't a strong sense but it was a persistent one.

She didn't know if her injuries had damaged this ability, but she had every intention of finding out; and if it was still working to use it to track him down.

About then Cortez's announcement that they were about to land drew her out of her memories.

Alenko and Orson were waiting when the shuttle touched down.

She and Vega were the first out the door.

"Commander what is this about Turians?" Orson began just as the aforementioned Turians began to emerge from the shuttle.

"Gentlemen, this is Sergeant Jask Hazlon, Specialist Maas Yelter, and Cadet Vicas Hendan." She introduced them, wondering where Solana was.

"Commander…" Orson began.

"Orson, these people are joining our crew and I expect that they will be treated as valued members of such." She cut him off, not willing to listen to what she was beginning to realize was Earth Firster crap.

About then Mazera and Triskal jumped down.

"This is Sergeant Flic Mazera and Doctor Evan Triskal who will also be joining us."

Orson looked much happier about that. Just then, wearing a hooded coat, Solana finally emerged.

"And this is field medic Solana…"She deliberately paused for a second as Solana stepped down. "Vakarian."

Both Alenko and Orson were startled. She expected Orson; however Alenko's reaction didn't seem quite right to her. It was like he was both startled and somehow a bit guilty. Now her curiosity was piqued, what had he to feel guilty about.


	23. Chapter 23 - Just Aim

_Good Wednesday All. I hope everything goes well for you. I apologise for slowing down on posting but I've stalled out a bit on some of these stories. I'm not dropping them, just having to think where I want them to go. Would you believe I've already got a follow up story to this one. Bangs head on wall, I'm a glutton for punishment. However, that one doesn't get posted until this one is complete. (Runs for cover.) Sorry guys. As always thank you for your interest and your kindness. You guys all rock. Have a great one._

* * *

Just Aim

 **Shepard**

She ignored Orson and Alenko for the moment, sure that she'd have to deal with them later. It was more important to Shepard to set about making sure her new crew members were settled in. Yeah, she could have given the job to Alenko; but this was, in a way, a celebration of no more ' _Elcor and Varren_ ' shows.

Donelly and Daniels had done an excellent job in getting Samara's old quarters ready for the Turians.

Shepard wasn't sure if the males and the females needed separation like some old Alliance groups had; but they seemed fine with the arrangement. Joking as they picked out their sleeping areas. For now, since they had no Turian cots, everybody settled down on thick pads of comforters, foam rubber, and lots and lots of pillows.

She apologized but they all waved it off, saying they'd all slept on far worse during the war.

However Solana pulled her aside while everyone was settling in.

"Is there a problem Solana?" As a medic she'd know if the accommodations were insufficient.

"I don't know if you have the room, Commander; but it would probably be better for Hendan to have his own space." Solana spoke quietly so the youngster in question couldn't hear.

Shepard tipped her head in question, a mannerism learned from Garrus.

"Adolescence." Solana explained.

"Ah." Shepard understood completely. The boy wasn't quite ready for such adult company.

She thought for a moment.

"If he's to be my aide, he should be located near my cabin."

"Commander!"

Damn. She hadn't heard Orson come in and wasn't really ready to deal with him; but she turned and faced the older soldier.

"I'm your aide." He protested and shot a sideways glare at Hendan. "I don't need help."

"And you've been a very good one; but now I need one that's more combat oriented." She lied.

About then Hendan dropped the box of supplies he'd been trying to move. Shepard resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Well, Victus had warned her he was clumsy; but she was beginning to think he might have underplayed that a bit.

"Commander." With icy formality, Orson excused himself.

She was going to have to smooth over that situation, if she could, but in truth she didn't really care. Orson had irritated her both with his treatment of her and what she'd begun to realize were some barely suppressed Earth First sentiments.

Along with getting everyone new settled in, she was delighted to find that Kolyat had also decided to join her crew.

As she was finished up settling everyone in the intercom clicked on.

" _Commander?"_ Joker said.

"Yeah, Joker?"

" _Admiral Hackett's on line one for you."_

"Oh?" She straightened up and eyed the speaker. "What's his mood."? If it was one thing Joker was good at, it was reading another's moods through their voice tones – even aliens, though he complained that Wrex always sounded irritated. But Krogan.

" _Resigned_." Joker told her. " _So what did you do this time?"_

"Why do I have to have done anything?" She glared up at the ceiling.

Joker's only answer was a very loud snort.

"Watch it Brittle bones."

" _Ooh, protect me from the cruel Commander_." Came the very unbelievable plea.

It was her turn to snort and then she paused. "Are we ready to leave the dock?"

" _Not yet_." Joker instantly switched from sarcastic to business. " _Just got notice of a large shipment from the Hierarchy_ _. Signed off on by Wrex's 'discussion' buddy_."

Shepard knew that Joker meant Victus, who obviously intended to see to his people's comfort. She hoped there were some cots in there; nothing the humans had was designed for a Turian. She had to wonder how Garrus had made do with a human cot on the SR-1 without looking like the Turian version of a pretzel every morning.

As for Joker's designation, he'd started the habit of obliquely referring to aliens after what he'd described as a full scale interrogation by Orson. That was another reason she wanted Orson off the ship. She might be damaged goods but she was still the Commander of this ship; and damned if she would allow anyone to disrespect any of her crew.

"I'll take it in my cabin."

" _Roger."_

Excusing herself from the Turians she headed out to the elevator; and, of course, running into Alenko.

"Kaidan, we've got a supply shipment inbound from the Hierarchy, see to getting it on board. If there are cots in there, get them up to the Turians." She thought for a moment. "You might ask Solana to check for medical supplies and get those up to med bay."

"Of course." He paused as she signaled for the elevator. "Commander, I understand…"

The elevator arrived and she stepped in. Turning around she blocked him trying to get into the elevator with her.

"Now Major." With that the door slowly closed.

Damn, she was getting tired of him trailing her like an abandoned puppy; and she was sure he'd been about to bring Orson up to her.

Well she was about to take care of the Orson question.

When she got up to her cabin, the incoming call light was signaling on her console.

She sat down and activated it; and a holograph of the Admiral sprang into being over her desk. She'd caught him unawares and he was rubbing his temples, eyes closed.

"Headache, Admiral?" She asked, concerned.

His eyes snapped open and he looked a bit, just a bit mind you, startled.

" _Commander Shepard_."

"Yes sir. You called." She was polite and a touch formal. She wasn't totally sure why he called though she had a pretty good idea.

" _I understand you've brought some new crew members on board_." His answer was non-committal.

"Let me guess. Orson?" At his look. "Renfield?"

" _Both_." He sighed. " _And something about replacing Orson."_

"All I had was a three man ground crew." She explained. "I needed more people, if for nothing else to allow them a chance to rest and give injuries time to heal."

" _I know Vega and Alenko; but who's the third?"_ Now he was openly suspicious. _"You weren't planning on going down were you, Commander?"_ She wasn't about to tell him that if it got really desperate she'd hit the ground, bad leg or no.

"Kolyat Krios joined the team."

" _Krios?"_

"Yes, he's the son of Thane Krios who was on the Omega 4 mission." And before Hackett could ask. "No, he's not an assassin as his father was. He's C-Sec."

He nodded, inviting her to go on.

"I had gone out to see Primarch Victus and while I was out there, I picked up several more members to fill out my ground team."

"An Alliance Marine – Sergeant Mazera. She was on the ground in England and has worked with aliens." Hackett looked pleased at that addition.

"I also got an physician. A Doctor Evan Triskal." Again before Hackett could ask she went on. "I've already vetted him with Chakwas. She says he's young but has a good rep and a wide range of knowledge; and no known aversion to aliens."

" _About the aliens?"_ Now they were getting down to the real reason he'd called.

"As I said, I went out to talk to Primarch Victus and, to my surprise, he offered to ask if any of his people wanted to join us."

" _And?"_

"A Sergeant Hazlon who was on Menae with the Primarch volunteered as did an Ordinance Specialist Yetter." Here she paused for a moment. "And a Blackwatch medic also volunteered."

Like her, Hackett was well aware that the Blackwatch were the N7s of the Hierarchy. He was suitably impressed.

"Her name is Medic Solana Vakarian."

That caught him flat footed.

" _Vakarian? As in?"_ He paused, obviously not quite sure what question he should ask.

"His sister." She answered then sighed. "And a Cadet Hendan, at Victus's personal request."

" _Request?"_

"Let's just say that Hendan is rather awkward right now."

Hackett let out a discrete cough at that. As a senior commanding officer he'd no doubt dealt with many an Alliance version of Hendan in his time."

" _All right. But now why get rid of Orson? As I understand it, he's doing a very good job."_

"Because the man refuses to treat me like a soldier." She shot back. "He acts like my brain is as handicapped as my body, and I'm some sort of princess who needs protecting." She scowled and Hackett let out a small snort of disbelief. "Even worse, I realize now that he's begun to spout off Earth First rhetoric. I won't have that on my ship, aliens or no."

" _Orson was Renfield's own choice to go on the Normandy."_ Hackett mused.

"Then he can go back to Renfield." She was deadly serious. "I don't want/won't have him aboard anymore Admiral. The wrong word from the wrong person at the wrong time could derail this fragile peace we've got going."

" _Agreed."_ Hackett sighed. " _All right, I'll see to getting Orson reassigned. And I approve your new additions."_

He paused, looking off to the side for a moment. " _I assume, if you can find him, you'll want the Praetor back aboard?_ '

"Yes." She hid the pain that hearing his name caused. "Though Victus and I are still working out an agreement about that."

" _Careful. The office of Primarch might have fallen to him accidentally; but he earned his position as one of Palaven's top Generals. Also one of their most unorthodox."_ Hackett cautioned her.

"I'm well aware of his negotiating skills, Admiral." She said ruefully. "And after refereeing between him and Wrex. This is easy."

With a laugh, Hackett signed off.


	24. Chapter 24 - Unexpected Find

_Surprise, actually got two chapters done on the same day. Probably won't happen again; but I am trying. And no, I'm being ebul and won't tell you who showed up until the next Garrus chapter. (Runs for cover.) As always thank you for your interest and your kindnesses. They make this all worthwhile. Cheers._

* * *

Unexpected Find

 **Dasken**

When she came out that damp morning it was to find Garat outside on the patio trying to shelter from the wind and the damp, clingy mists.

"Spirit's Garat you could have come inside." She chided him.

He fell in beside her as they headed for the main gate. "I didn't think that was a good idea with Steward."

She was about to protest when she realized that he was right. Anna was still exceptionally spooky around the young man. Coming face to face with him when she was half asleep would not end well for anyone.

"Point." She conceded and he gave a click of agreement.

He easily unlocked the gate and pulled it open, letting in a billow of fog from the roadway. The hinges only squealing a bit in protest. She was impressed. He was already doing the work they wanted him to do.

"If you've got some omni-gel around, I'll lubricate those this afternoon when I get back, and they'll stop making so much noise." He told her. As a damp cold breeze swirled around them, he pulled his coat tighter to him. His sub harmonics sang his misery.

"Should have worn your under suit." She commented, knowing he had to have one for his heavy armor.

"Too heavy." He said. "Is there anyplace in town I can buy a lighter one or even a climate suit?"

"Yes. In the middle of town is a clothier." She told him. "She carries clothing, shoes for everybody. Turian, human, Asari, even some Drell and Krogan. Not a wide selection, particularly not since the war, but there is some choice." She paused to look him in the eye as he paced along side her. "She won't be cheap but her stock is all very good."

He gave a click of agreement, and then seemed to be thinking of something.

"If I wanted to make a call off planet, would I be able to?" He finally asked her diffidently.

"No omni-tool?" She was surprised.

"Got damaged during the war. Can only manage certain types of communications." He told her.

 **Garrus**

Garrus wasn't going to tell her that his omni-tool was fine, he just didn't want it traced back to him. He had every intention of getting the plans for the hydroponic growth tanks and sending them, anonymously, to Victus. His people were going to need all the help they could get; and these gardens were a way for them to get both dextro specific vegetables with dextro protein with a minimum amount of space, effort, and supplies.

He began to wonder if these could be set up on a star ship. It would make star travel, now that the relays were down, a whole lot safer for Dextros. Thinking of that made him realize that he should also send the plans to Tali. He knew that the Quarians used hydroponics exclusively to grow their food; but he wasn't sure if they knew of this itineration.

"Somebody from the Port comes around periodically with a portable unit and for a small sum you can call out." Dasken told him.

About what he had figured. People staying in touch was vital but governments didn't want the airwaves cluttered up with somebody talking about Aunt Sokka's plate cracks or her pet varren's incontinence.

Despite the dimness and the fog, it didn't take long for them to reach the Citadel diner. Dasken unlocked the door and let them in, closing out the fog and the damp. It was coolish and dark inside, though brighter and warmer than outside, and he could hear the quiet hum of machines – probably the coolers; and smell the left over odors of cooked food both levo and dextro. The combination made for an unusual odor – not bad – just odd.

"Would you mind opening the blinds?" Dasken was a bit diffident with him, obviously not sure how he would react to doing something so mundane.

He gave a hum of agreement and set to work. Pulling up the blinds and manually lightening up the solar screens as Dasken set to work back behind the counter. It was a little too dark yet for the solar screens to go to auto. He could both hear and slightly feel the heat as she activated the warming trays for food that would be cooked and held.

"Do I need to worry about the sun's brightness?" He paused as he stretched to reach one cord.

Dasken snorted at that and indicated outside where the, dismal looking fog swirled around and caught on various things like wisps of cotton.

With a chuff of amusement and understanding, he kept on going. In no time he had the blinds up, all the solar screens finally activating automatically as it lightened up a touch outside.

"Anything else?" He came over to the counter where she was finishing the preparation of a large pot of _Khaal_.

"No, not at the moment." She waved him to a seat and poured him a cup. Reaching down below the counter to pull out the Sulta for him.

"It'll be awhile before Jorge is in." She told him. "He's not what the human's call a morning person."

He clicked in agreement. On those rare mornings when she'd not been on duty, Shepard had, most definitely, not been a morning person. He took his life in his hands to wake her up and get her out of bed. He'd had a book, the clock, that weird support thing called a bra, a plate, a cup, and a pillow thrown at him at different times. And half asleep with her hair in her eyes she still had damn good aim. She'd bounced the cup off of his forehead plate and got the pillow stuck on his fringe.

Right then they'd gotten a call out and had to get their armor on; and he'd headed towards his locker forgetting about the pillow. Vega was still teasing him months later about his new ' _helmet_ '. He'd debated putting several cups by the bedside and letting Vega wake her up one morning. See how he liked being the target of her morning grouchies; but no, even in her surly moods she was still his mate and he'd put up with whatever she dished out. He suppressed a keen at the thought of waking up with her...and, even more, without her. He forced himself to think about what he had to do and what he would do today, depending on Jorge's orders.

Dasken went back to work and he just sat and thought, and savored his _Khaal_.

While he was sitting quietly, the door opened and Rich, Elzis, and Paty all came in.

"Dasken, Garat." Rich greeted them as he walked by, back into the kitchen.

"Well, don't you two look comfortable."? That was Paty, giving him a look he wasn't sure he recognized though it reminded him, in some unnerving ways, of the over friendly Yeoman Kelly.

"Tomere Vakan." Elzis damn near purred at him.

Oh Spirits, he realized the man was putting out an invitation to relieve stress. He went the whole war with nobody really caring; but now it seemed like every other person he ran into was interested. He'd always thought that fighting was the aphrodisiac not peacetime.

He kept his sub harmonics strictly platonic and made it very clear, he hoped, that he wasn't interested but thanks. Looking and sounding a bit unhappy but not violently so, the older man made his way into the back where Rich was already firing up the levo grill.

Dasken shot him a sub harmonic apology and he just gave a chirp of acknowledgement.

Meanwhile, Paty had taken off her coat and hung it up. Already wearing her apron.

"So you got the job Garat?" She asked as she was making a pot of coffee. From the smell of it, Shepard would have loved it. Strong, rich, and hot.

"Paty, you knew he would." Dasken sounded a bit snappish.

"Yeah, but this is Anna we're talking about. Common sense isn't her strong suit." Paty returned.

In this case, Garrus had to agreed with Paty. Anna seemed to have a tenuous arrangement with common sense…and logic.

"Oh, Joe says the distant relay man will be coming by today." Paty spoke up.

"Little early isn't he?" That was Rich peering out from the kitchen as he began to cook, what Garrus thought was bacon.

"They've begun to get enough calls out to bring a second man in to help so now one goes in one direction and the other takes the other direction."

"Isn't much in the way of settlements till you get to the Capitol city." Dasken spoke up, freshening his cup of _Khaal_.

"Second guys going to have a lot easier time of it then." That was Paty bringing out the sweeteners and the different milks they used.

She glanced outside and snorted. "Useless slob at 2 o'clock, Rich. Start the pancakes."

There was an answering snort from the kitchen and Garrus could hear something start to cook on the griddle. The bacon was already sizzling.

A few moments later the door opened and the man they'd called Buddy came ambling in. To Garrus's annoyance he didn't close the door hard enough and it swung open letting in the damp morning mists. Barely having gotten warmed, Garrus had to pull up the hood on his coat.

"Buddy, you moron, close the door." Paty yelled at him.

"I did…" He began and was cut off by a chorus from the others.

"Spirits, close the damn door you idiotic pyjak." Dasken, Elzis, and Rich shouted in tandem. Garrus had to laugh quietly at the human using Turian phrases.

With grumbles of unfairness the man got back up and headed for the door. He'd managed to get half way down the diner before everyone started yelling at him.

Just as he went to close it, someone pushed their way in and closed the door behind himself.

Dasken froze, her hand going to a nearby knife under the counter. Paty had grabbed the pot of coffee. Garrus hadn't understood that until he realized that a face full of scalding hot coffee would deter even a Krogan.

Buddy stepped back as the Turian, another one in an old style hooded coat, straightened up. Garrus caught a glimpse of a scared hand and arm, and a face without any marks. A face that somehow looked familiar.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."

Garrus froze, he might not of recognized the face but that voice he knew, though he hadn't heard it since before the end of the war. A man he thought had died when the Reapers took the Citadel. A man who would know instantly who he was.


	25. Chapter 25 - Why Here?

_Greetings. The plot thickens. You never know who's going to show up out in the boon docks. This chapter came fast and I didn't want to keep you in too much suspense for too long. Gotta watch out for those torches and pitchforks. LOl As always thank you for your interest and your kindnesses. I hope this story is continuing to live up to your expectations. Have a great one. Cheers._

* * *

Why Here?

 **Garrus**

Garrus turned around quickly to face the kitchen; very glad he'd put the hood up on his coat.

Meanwhile the other Turian shook his hood down and Paty gave a glad cry at the sight of him.

"Tesk, where the hell have you been you old pirate?" She let go of the coffee pot.

Teskal Neest, a fellow C-Sec officer, and an old friend of both Garrus's family and, more importantly, Garrus himself - grinned and chirped.

"Authorities had me on the other side of the planet, Ms. Patricia." He said gallantly with an over exaggerated bow that set her to giggling, as Dasken relaxed and stepped away from the knife, going to pour the newcomer a cup of _Khaal_.

Elzis had come out of the kitchen and he also greeted the older man with easy familiarity. Obviously Neest was well known here.

Garrus quietly came to his feet and slipped out the front door into the swirling mists. With everyone distracted by Teskal, no one really noticed his departure. He immediately headed for Jorges, planning on hiding out there until the older man had left town.

While he would have loved to catch up with Teskal, find out how he ended up here, he was, very glad and very surprised to see him alive. The last he'd heard, Teskal had been on the Citadel when the Reapers took it over and towed it to earth. A lot of his old C-Sec and Citadel friends and associates hadn't made it off the massive station. C-Sec in particular because they had stayed to the end, struggling to get all the innocent civilians they could away from the Citadel. In his mind they were all heroes as much as the men and women who had been on the ground in London and around the globe.

Fortunately, Jorge was actually early that morning and Garrus was able to slip inside his shop.

"Garat? I wasn't expecting you so early." Jorge was still half asleep as he pulled up the shades.

"Came in with Dasken." He explained as he took off his coat and his gloves and put them in the locker Jorge had given him. To his surprise the man had actually located a tattered Turian work suit for him. He appreciated that; he hadn't really wanted to get his regular clothes dirty. Not that they were fancy or anything; but he wanted to make what he had last.

"What do you want me to work on today?" He asked as he was pulling the outfit on. Pants and a shapeless tunic

"Are all the dollys up and running?"

"Yes. Also rebuilt another cooler." Garrus told him, sealing the sides of the outfit and wondering who in Spirit's name it was meant for. It was huge, would have fit Grunt.

Jorge was suitably impressed and Garrus got the impression that the workers before him hadn't been quite so motivated and/or quite so skilled.

"Ah…" Jorge ran a hand through his hair. "Would you mind straightening up around here? I know it's not repair work or anything grand."

"I'm here to work Jorge, and that is work as much as repairing something is." The Turian assured him. "You have a system I need to follow?"

"No, basically my system was where ever I could fit it in the damn shop." The man gave a rueful laugh and Garrus gave a chuff of amusement.

"Understood." Garrus glanced out to the back yard where a large rust streaked object lurked back behind bits and pieces of scrap.

Seeing the direction he was looking in.

"I doubt you can do anything with that scrap heap, but feel free to try." Jorge yawned.

"Looks like you need some coffee." Garrus commented with a smile.

"No. I need a lot of coffee." Jorge tossed back and got another chuff of amusement. "I'll be back in a bit. Can I bring you anything?"

"A cup of _Khaal_ would be nice but you don't have to." He was honest.

"Got it." With that Jorge made his way out into the thinning mists, heading for the Citadel.

Garrus looked around the shop; taking a mental inventory of what there was and what space he had to work with. The back yard he'd leave for another day unless he managed to finish in here.

To his surprise, Jorge was actually more organized than he claimed. He was quickly able to sort things by – useful, might be useful, in a pinch useful, and what Shepard had dubbed paperweight. More weight that useful.

He moved everything off the nearer counters and tables and wiped them down. In a couple of places, there was enough oil and/or lubricant to grease up a couple of axles. He rolled up his sleeves – the tunics and his own sleeves and scraped it up. Since he wasn't exactly sure of what was in it, he dumped it in an oil waste barrel.

Fortunately, it looked like while Jorge was somewhat careless with where he placed things – he was very careful to keep his oil collection barrels clean. Garrus made a quick tour of the shop and dumped out what little he could find in the various barrels into the recycling unit.

The unit fired up with a grinding clank startling him. He hadn't realized that it was on an automatic setting. It set to work with a lot of hissing and clunking. Garrus wasn't sure if that's how it was supposed to sound or how it had come to sound.

Leaving it to do its work, he started putting things back on the wiped off tables. He wouldn't call them clean exactly, but you also wouldn't stick to them anymore. He'd found some old boxes in the back and used them for keeping various parts in. Putting universals on one side of the table and specifics on the other. Smaller, more expensive stuff he kept by the register. He'd learned that much in his time on the big Citadel. Little, easily lifted stuff was kept where you or your security system could keep watch on it.

The recycler was busy clunking away and he was preoccupied with his reorganization so he didn't hear someone come into the shop.

"I hear you want to make a call off planet?" Came a flanging voice.

Startled he swung around and came face to face with the one man he'd been trying to avoid.

There was a moment of shocked silence on both sides and then.

"Garrus." The older man grabbed him by the shoulders, smashing his forehead, hard, into Garrus's. His sub harmonics singing of joy at seeing him and relief that he was alive. "What are you doing here?"

Discovered, Garrus didn't try to cover up his sub harmonics. His also sounded of relief and surprise. "I could ask you that, Teskal. Last I heard you were on the Citadel."

Teskal stepped back, his subs going sad. "I was until nearly the end and then they needed a pilot to fly a shuttle of wounded C-Sec out of there to the relay. I was the only one at that dock with any training – so they threw me onboard and sent me off."

Teskal paused and looked off to the side. "The Reapers took over an hour later."

Garrus's subs sang remorse and sadness in tandem with Teskals.

"Enough of me." Teskal suppressed his under tones. "What in Spirit's name on you doing out here. Last I heard you'd gotten lost with the Normandy."

Garrus tried to suppress his own undertones at the mention of the Normandy; but he couldn't manage it. Seeing Teskal brought back too many memories both good and bad.

"She got unlost." He told Teskal. "We made it back to earth finally."

"And…."

"And what?"

"Garrus, half the galaxy knew that you had something going with Commander Shepard. She's alive and you're alive – why in Spirit's name are you out here on this backwater planet – away from her."

"It was just stress relief, Teskal. She was carrying the brunt of the Reaper War." He lied, pretty glibly he thought.

Teskal snorted at that. "Try that line on someone else, boy. I've known you since you were a stripling – sure you had the casual encounters but Commander Shepard wasn't one of them. You and she were in it for as long as the Spirits would allow."

Garrus turned away at that. "I…I had to leave….her, Teskal." He about choked on those words.

"Leave, why? Oh don't tell me that Castis raised a stink as the humans say?" Teskal growled. His relationship with Garrus's father had always been on and off.

"No. Dad doesn't even know unless he's been listening to gossip."

Teskal snorted again. "Your dad was never the gossip kind, boy."

"I…I…" He near keened. "The Alliance threatened to court-martial her, Teskal, take her ship away if I came near her. Near threatened to cause trouble for the..the Primarch and our people stuck on earth. I couldn't let either of those things happen so I, got lost as the humans say."

Teskal had been watching him with a dubious look on his face; but now his undertones sang sympathy for Garrus.

"You sure they meant it?"

"It was an Alliance Admiral that….'talked' to me." Garrus made the 'air quotes' so beloved of Councilor Sparatus.

"Crap." Teskal grumbled. "I doubt there's much they can do to her. She did save all our asses after all; but they could cause a lot of trouble for our people." He paused and was suddenly grim. "And the last thing we could handle is a battle with the Alliance when both sides have been chewed up and our Primarch is deep in their territory."

Garrus gave a resigned click of agreement. "True."

"So why are you here on Tesertus?"

"Been just hopping from system to system as I can get passage." He told the other man. "No specific destination."

"And are you under another name?" Teskal eyed him. "No one mentioned anything about the famous…"

Garrus let out a growl of annoyance at that and Teskal shot him a quick grin.

"…famous Garrus Vakarian." Teskal went on.

"Yes. I'm Garat Vakan…ex-soldier." He told Teskal. "Nobody important." That got him another snort from the older man.

"You don't give yourself enough credit boy, never did. I blame Castis for that. You always were somebody special – even half beaten up with broken ribs." The older man brought up the first time the two had met. Years and years ago when Garrus had been kidnapped. Teskal had been one of those to help rescue him; but the main person had been the then Private – Jessamine Shepard.

"If you say so." Garrus wasn't going to argue with him. Teskal had always held a higher opinion of Garrus then he did of himself.

Thinking back to what Teskal had said when he first came in.

"You're from the port?"

"Yeah, periodically somebody goes around with a mobile unit and people can call out for a small fee. Keeps people in touch with each other but doesn't overwhelm the planet's main communications." Teskal explained. "You want to call out?"

"Yeah, I want to send Victus the plans for the hydroponics they're using here. Be easier than trying to get anything out of dust and ash."

Teskal let out a tone of amusement. "Victus is it. So the rumors I heard of you becoming an advisor to the Primarch were true."

"It wasn't that big a thing." Garrus quickly protested. "I was the only one at that time with any Reaper experience."

"Still…"

"Teskal." Garrus warned him. The older man loved to tease people when he could; but Garrus wasn't quite up for it.

Realizing that the younger man wasn't amenable to being teased at this moment, Teskal let it drop.

"Do you have the plans?"

"No. I'm going to try to get them this afternoon." He told Teskal.

"All right. I should be back here around dinnertime. Where are you staying?"

"I'm the new maintenance man over at the orphan's place run by Steward and Dasken." He said.

"And you're still here? I'm impressed. Those kids usually manage to chase off the new hires in a few hours." Teskal was obviously familiar with the situation.

"Yes, well. I made it very clear that I wouldn't be taking orders from a child." Garrus stated.

"Good. Those kids need some discipline – now."

"Don't know why they haven't instituted a training program – keep them too busy to get into trouble."

"Past year we've just been getting back on our feet, Garrus. Repairing the damage. Welcoming back those who've come home and mourning those who didn't make it." Teskal voices were quiet. His undertones serious.

"That's what most everyone is doing." Garrus gave a soft hum of understanding and agreement.


	26. Chapter 26 - Starting Out

_Greetings and Salutations. Wishing you all a wonderful weekend. Here's the next chapter in a Different Path. As someone commented I'm trying to use some of the same characters from my other stories so there are several threads binding them all together. Thank you for all your kindnesses, your comments, and your interest, you keep me going. Have a good one. Cheers, Fran_

* * *

Starting Out

 **Shepard**

With Hackett's usual efficiency – Orson's new posting had come through by that afternoon.

While she would have preferred to be elsewhere, Shepard made a point to personally see the man off. As a junior officer she'd been shifted off a ship a few times. Mostly because, officially, some superior thought she was too ' _womanly and small'_ to be a marine. Unofficially it was more likely, she'd always secretly thought, because she'd told somebody no. Despite all the advances women had made in the services there were more senior officers still living in the dark ages than the Alliance would like to admit. Though far fewer now thanks to the Reapers; but the good ones had gone along with the bad.

She shook his hand as he stood on the dock, duffle over his shoulder, waiting for an air car. He was obviously not happy about being reassigned nor with her presence.

"Lieutenant, you've been a good worker." And he had been, despite his attitude. But with aliens aboard she also couldn't or wouldn't risk his attitude.

"I'll be putting a letter of recommendation in your file."

"Commander." His voice was decidedly cool; but she refused to take offense at his thinly veiled displeasure. She'd never been particularly happy when she'd been reassigned, read kicked off, either.

The air lock opened and Kaidan stepped out. Orson genuinely smiled on seeing the biotic.

Shepard stepped to the side, ostensibly to check out a stray box of cargo, but in reality to give them some privacy; however she made a mental note. She hadn't realized that Orson and Alenko had become so well acquainted and she wasn't sure exactly how she felt about that.

On the one hand it made perfect sense. Orson with his Alliance ( _humans_ ) is everything attitude and Alenko with his steadfast devotion to the Alliance. ( _Let him get locked up for six months by the Alliance and deal with their bullshit and see how he felt then, she thought sourly_.) She realized though that she might have to keep an eye on the biotic. She didn't think Alenko had it in him to turn Earth Firster; but the Reaper war had changed a lot of people's attitude toward the galaxy and other races, and not always for the better.

Noticing an air car in the distance that was headed this way, she bade Orson farewell and stepped into the air lock. She told Alenko to take his time.

Once the doors had closed and decontamination had started she got on her omni-tool.

"Joker?"

" _Commander?"_

"Let Hazlon, Vega, Mazera, Yelter, Krios, and Alenko know that we'll be having an unofficial meeting over dinner."

" _Not a formal conference?"_

"Not right now, still have to get used to each other. Dinner is a good time for that."

" _Yeah, nothing builds team spirit like commiserating over bad food_." The pilot quipped.

"Joker!"

" _What? You like out of date E-Rats and MREs?"_

She had to admit he was right. The food factories hadn't quite gotten back up to speed and most of what was available right now were the left over flavors nobody much liked. Like sunflower butter, she shuddered, and who the hell thought that sushi was a good choice for an MRE. Artificial tuna flavor was just fundamentally wrong.

"No comment."

He snorted at that.

"Oh, and tell Triskal and Vakarian to join us also." After a minute she added. "And Hendan."

" _Is the Primarch going to reimburse us for whatever that kid breaks or loses?"_ Now Joker sounded uncharacteristically irritable.

"He's broken something already?" She was going to speak to Victus about the boy and JUST how the Turian definition of clumsy differed from the human version.

" _Not sure but there was a gadawful crash on the cargo deck about an hour ago and Vega is still mumbling and swearing_."

She rubbed her forehead and the headache that was trying to start.

"I'll check it out, Joker." About then the decontamination was over and the air lock doors opened into the interior of the Normandy. She knew it was her imagination but the ship seemed more normal, more like the old Normandy on a quiet day – a good day – when nothing was trying to kill them. In the later days a very rare occurrence.

She headed for the elevator, as much to see what had happened in the cargo hold as to escape before Alenko got through decon. She'd heard the sequence start up not long after the air lock doors closed behind her.

As it always did, the elevator – oh so slowly – made its way down to the cargo hold. When it finally hit the cargo hold floor and opened. Joker had been right, Vega was muttering under his breath as he crawled around on his hands and knees, looking like a pale skinned Elcor, picking up things off the floor and putting them in a small plastic tray. Meanwhile Cortez was carefully sweeping up something with a broom. She could hear a lot of little rolling noises and noticed that something shiny and metallic had escaped Vega and was heading over towards her feet. She stopped and when it hit her boot, she bent down and picked it up. It was some sort of chromed ball bearing. She'd seen its like in several weapons and a number of devices onboard the Normandy.

"Vega, Cortez. What happened?" When the pilot noticed her and stopped sweeping.

"Just a little accident, Commander." Cortez shrugged. Knowing his good nature she suspected that it was more than just a little accident. Vega slowly climbed to his feet, groaning a bit. The small box rattling in one hand.

"Getting old there James?" She couldn't resist the temptation to tease him.

"I'm in perfect shape Lola." Vega puffed out his impressive chest. Shepard just rolled her eyes.

Cortez snorted at that and Vega just glared at him out of the corner of his eye.

Hiding a chuckle she looked around.

"Let me guess, Cadet Hendan?"

"He's a bit of a klutz, Commander." That was Cortez, carefully maneuvering what he'd swept up into a dustpan. "Vega."

Vega came over and carefully lifted the dustpan up, depositing the ball bearings in the little tray.

"Boy's a menace." Vega grumbled.

"And you never knocked over anything in your life?" She exclaimed.

"Hell, " Now Vega looked somewhat embarrassed. "We all have Lola; but that kid just looks at something and it falls over."

"Cut him some slack, James." That was Cortez. "Kid's in the out of joint phase."

"Out of joint?" Shepard questioned the pilot.

"His body is and has grown so fast that he doesn't know quite where his extremities are." At her quizzical look.

"Think of it this way. If you're used to having, say, two feet of reach to work with; if you suddenly get two feet and four inches and no time to adjust. Those four inches are going to throw everything you do off. You'll overshoot or over compensate, either way you're going to knock things over or off or run into things."

Shepard had never thought of it that way. Now the term growth spurt had a little more meaning for her. She also ignored the thoughts of flexibility that the mention of reach had set off.

"You have any suggestions on how we can help him?"

"Physical training." The answer was prompt.

"Like weight training?" That was Vega, now looking a bit interested.

"Not specifically. Just training that gives him time to get adjusted to his new body, what it can do, and where his borders are."

"Okay. Vega, you game to take on training the kid?" She could have ordered him but she thought it better to ask. Hendan had probably dealt with too many people that were just tolerating him because the Primarch was his mentor/guardian.

"Just general physical training, Lola?"

"Yeah, I don't think weight training would be good for him at the moment. I don't know how it is with Turians; but a human kids growing bones can be a somewhat touchy. I want to help the kid not cripple him."

"I can do that." Vega told her, absently rattling the box of ball bearings in his hand.

"Just don't let him know why you're doing it." She said turning to leave. "Kid's probably embarrassed enough as it is without thinking he's become some sort of charity case."

"I can be sensitive." Vega protested.

"Like a Krogan." Came the mutter from Cortez's direction and she was hard pressed not to laugh as Vega scowled and growled curses under his breath.

"Steve, you see to it that he doesn't turn the kid into the Turian version of the Hulk."

"The Hulk?" The pilot was confused.

"Ask Joker. Some raging green monster from fiction." She explained as she got into the elevator.

Shepard spent the next few hours till dinner doing paperwork in her cabin. Got it over and done with and kept her out of Alenko's way. Now that Orson was gone, she had a feeling that the biotic was going to become twice as clingy as before. If he didn't back off she was going to blast him out an air lock. Somehow even thinking about that was therapeutic. She refused to look at how thinking that way reflected on her. Commanding officers were not supposed to daydream about spacing their XOs.

When she came into the mess area that evening, she was pleased to see that everybody was trying to get along, particularly the ground crew.

Vega, Mazera, and Hazlon were sitting together having a spirited discussion about something if the waving arms and flapping mandibles were anything to go by.

Yelter had her nose buried in another data-pad. Shepard was beginning to get the impression that she did that a lot. Well, she thought philosophically, it beat Yelter trying to engage in explosive experiments. Something Victus had said that she did with a great deal of enthusiasm and not much warning.

Down at one end of the table, Cortez was teaching Hendan how to play chess, of all things. The young Turian seemed to be fully engrossed in learning. Cortez obviously ignoring the occasional clatter as a chess piece got knocked off the table. To her surprise, Kolyat was also watching the game; and from the way he was gesturing, minimal though it was, he was also contributing to the lesson.

Half way down the table, Alenko was talking to Dr. Triskal. The final new crewmember, Solana was sitting at another table reading a data pad also; but not with Yelter's intensity. From what Shepard could see, she'd gone to another table simply because there wasn't any room left at the first table.

Collecting her 'meal' such as it was from Symons the new cook, Shepard walked over to Solana. Besides there not being any room elsewhere, she truly wanted to get to know Garrus's baby sister. Though she didn't know if Turians used that particular term for a younger sibling. She'd never heard Garrus use it.

"Solana may I join you?" She came to a stop next to the younger woman.

"Oh!" Startled, Solana looked up from her research. "Of course Commander, I'm sorry I didn't hear you come up."

"All right. No worries, it's a bit noisy in here." It wasn't over loud; but neither was it exactly quiet.

As Shepard sat down across from her, Solana shut down her data pad.

"Don't let me keep you from your reading." Shepard told her, trying to decide which of the less than optimal choices on her plate she should tackle first.

"I'm just re-reading human physiology." Solana told her.

At Shepard's curious look.

"If I'm onboard a human ship then I should know how to treat a human. Emergencies don't wait for the right medic to come along."

Shepard nodded her agreement as she made quick work of what she thought might be a sunflower butter and jelly sandwich.

"Doesn't look like you like that flavor." Solana commented with a click that Shepard recognized from being around Garrus as a Turian being amused.

"I loath sunflower butter." She admitted. "Unless it's buried under lots and lots of chocolate.

Solana gave a chuff of amusement. "Ah yes chocolate."

"Do Turians have chocolate?"

"We do now." Solana retorted with a chirping chuckle. "After the Relay 314 incident, when the first dextro chocolate made it to Palaven, it was an instant hit despite being from the evil humans."

Shepard's head came up at that, wondering if Solana was a closet Palaven First supporter.

"Sorry, some of my dad's old friends talked that nonsense when I was a kid." Solana paused to look off to the side and sigh.

"You miss your dad?"

"We've been together pretty much continuously since the Reaper's arrived." Solana told her.

"Do you think he'll be okay on his own?"

Solana gave another snort. "Dad will be fine. The Primarch has him involved with a lot of things at the embassy. It'll do dad good to be on his own, not watching over me all the time." The last was said with a bit of irritation.

"Over protective?" Shepard thought she understood.

"You have no idea." Solana flapped her mandibles in the Turian version of an eye roll. "Youngest child, female, injured, only off spring he can locate. If he could have put a tracker on me he would have."

Shepard chuckled. "He obviously cares for you."

Solana groaned. "I just wish he wouldn't do it like a C-Sec detective. Spirits protect any male showing interest in me. My father was doing background checks where he could, family assessments, and full interrogations." Shepard was highly entertained by the younger woman's description of her father's behavior; and she could just see the older Vakarian doing all that and more.

Solana paused. "He was also concerned about Garrus and since he couldn't be protective with him, he focused it all on me." She near growled at that. "My idiot brother has a lot to answer for."

Shepard had to smile, seems siblings sniping at each other was universal.

"Do you have any idea why Garrus would disappear like he did?" If anyone might know it would be Solana.

Solana's mandibles clamped down tight to the side of her jaw. Shepard recognized the maneuver, Garrus always did that when he was getting serious or seriously irritated "Garrus…" Shepard hid the pain that thinking of Garrus caused. "…was many things; but he would never have deserted Victus or our people unless something forced him too." Here she looked sideways at Shepard. "Like something to do with his mate."

Before Shepard could ask if that would be enough to drive him away; since Garrus had never really gotten into what being bonded meant.

"Hey Lola, we having a meeting or not?" Vega piped up from the other table.

"Yeah, let me finish dinner." She repressed a shudder as she dealt with the MRE. It wasn't sushi – thank the Spirits – but she wasn't sure what it was; and wasn't going to ask.

Finished, she and Solana moved over to the main table – the others making room for them. Hendan went to leave but she motioned him over to another table. He wasn't ground crew but he was going to be her aid so he needed to know what was going on.

Once everybody was settled, she stood up.

"I hope all you folk have introduced yourselves to each other." She spoke up and everybody nodded or clicked mandibles.

"You're going to be my ground crew since I won't, at this junction, be on the ground." She told them.

"Commander…"Alenko began.

"Major, complaints or comments later." She didn't let the biotic get started.

"I'm not sure, at this moment, what exactly we will be doing but it will not be anymore 'dog and pony' shows. It may be as simple as ferrying people and supplies or as difficult as chasing down slavers and pirates."

"The Alliance will be providing us with missions." She went on. "I will also be running missions for Primarch Victus."

That got a reaction from Alenko but he didn't say anything – now. She was sure she was going to hear about it later, though.

"He was kind enough to let Sergeant Hazlon, Specialist Yelter, and Medic Vakarian join our crew and it's only fair that I return the favor." What she didn't say out loud was that she was looking to groom favor with the Turian leader for when she did find Garrus. And she would find him.

Kolyat diffidently cleared his throat. "How many of our missions will involve combat, Commander?"

"I don't know, I would like to hope not many but Murphy is a permanent resident of this ship."

"Murphy?" The young Drell was obviously puzzled as were the Turians.

"Human idiom. Murphy's Law means that if anything can go wrong it will and at the worst possible moment."

" _And you have such wonderful luck, Commander_." Joker's snide voice broke in.

Shepard scowled at the speaker.

"Will we all be going down?" That was Mazera.

"No, I usually run a three or four man ground team." She told the woman. "Depending on what we're facing."

"Alenko is a biotic, Vega is a walking tank, Sergeant Hazlon is a general tactician, Mazera is good at sniping, Yelter is an ordnance expert, and Krios is a good infiltrator." Shepard nodded to each of those she mentioned. "Cortez is our shuttle pilot, Solana and Dr. Triskal are our medical team and Cadet Hendan is going to be my new aid. It's a small core group but I think we have most everything covered. If you have any other skills don't hesitate to let me know."

"I can also go to ground, Commander." Solana spoke up. "I was a battlefield medic; and part of what we were required to do was to protect our patients."

"That's good to know; but for now I'd sooner you stay onboard." Shepard told her, Solana gave a mandible click of agreement. She'd come to that decision partially because Solana was their sole Turian medic, the young woman was recovering from a broken leg, and Shepard had made a promise to keep her as safe as was possible. As much for Garrus as for Castis.

"If you have any questions, see me later. You are dismissed." With that she sat down again. Everybody got up and started to go their own ways but she was sure that one of the first people who would have questions was Major Alenko.


	27. Chapter 27 - Out of Sight

_Hello All, I hope everything is going well for you. Still writing just a little slower. And we won't talk about the birthday I had last week. (What the heck happened to 27.) I'm having to juggle four story lines - Path, Perspective, Manual, and Each and a fifth one that won't go up until Different Path is done. As you can see the story lines are beginning to weave together, this is Shakarian after all. As for bringing in Teskal. I love the rascal and didn't want to off him so I put him here. Hope that meets with your approval. As always thanks for all your kindnesses. If you spot a mistake - let me know - I am so not perfect. Cheers, Fran._

* * *

Out of Sight

 **Garrus**

"How in Spirit's name did you end up on this colony? It's not exactly the largest." Though Garrus knew that that had spared it the worst of Reaper attention during the war. They had started with the home worlds and biggest colonies first.

"The last of my family is here." Teskal told him. "And Aunt and a nephew." He paused and his voice grew quieter.  
"His parents didn't survive the war."

Garrus's sub harmonics sounded sympathy for Teskal. Almost everyone he met, no matter the species, had a similar story to tell, a similar sorrow to bear. In that way he knew he was incredibly lucky because both of his nearest blood, Sol and his dad, had survived.

Garrus glanced outside, the mists were still swirling about and he could see no sign of Jorge, so he went over and closed the main door.

Teskal let off a questioning hum.

"Have you taken a closer look at this town?" He asked.

Teskal's face cleared. "You mean the fact that it's an old merc compound? Yes, did that the second week I was here."

"Any idea who built this place and more importantly, where they went, and who drove them out?"

Teskal gave a mandible click. "No, I checked back in the records as much as I could before the Reapers sent everything into chaos. Nothing. This ' _town_ ' has been empty for quite a few years."

"But not enough that we can assume everyone who knew of this place is dead." Garrus was grim.

"No. A lot of us have tried to warn the mayor that we need to be prepared if and, more likely, when the mercs return and want their compound back." Now it was two soldiers discussing the situation not just two friends. "Idiot that he is, he keeps saying we have nothing to worry about." Garrus snorted his disbelief at that.

"I've implementing what programs I could to keep a watch for anything odd." Teskal leaned against a counter.

"Anything coming in from the nearby systems?"

"At the moment no; but the pirates are beginning to operate more openly now and it's just a matter of time until they really start hitting the more isolated colonies. Even if the mercs don't come back, I'm afraid that sooner or later the pirates will."

"Then we're going to need to get a plan in place." The younger man was grim.

"Agreed." Teskal gave a mandible click of agreement.

By the time Jorge got back, Teskal was just leaving.

"I'll see you this evening, Garat." He pushed out the main door. "Jorge."

"Teskal."

Jorge closed the door behind him and glanced around. From his look he was obviously impressed with what little, at least as far as he was concerned, that Garrus had accomplished.

"You're a good worker." After handing over a large steaming cup of _Khaal_ , Jorge hung up his coat. "And a fast one."

Garrus went to reach for his omni-tool and Jorge just waved him off. "You get the next one." Garrus nodded, understanding. He and some of the other C-Sec officers had had a system like that.

"It wasn't as badly disorganized as you led me to believe." He told the man. "Just kind of jumbled. As for fast…" He paused wondering how he could phrase this without revealing too much. "..my last few…positions were in places where you couldn't hesitate."

"I understand." Jorge paused to look around. "Did you get your message sent?"

"Tonight, I've still got some info to obtain. If you sent him over here – then thank you."

"No problem. Dasken mentioned you wanted to send a message out, so when he asked if anyone was interested I directed him this way."

Again Garrus nodded, after a moment's thought he went on. "It was good to see Teskal again. I had thought he died on the Citadel during the Reaper take over."

"You know Teskal?" Jorge was surprised.

"We met on the Citadel years ago when he was C-Sec." Garrus told the truth without telling all of it. He and Teskal had plans to make and carry out; and it would be easier to say that they knew each other then to try to make up some story.

"Small Universe." Jorge marveled.

"You have no idea." Garrus said.

Hours Later

 **Victus**

It was late and Victus was working in his office on his Spirits damned paper work. He would have almost preferred a Marauder attack to paper work. Almost. People died when a Marauder attacked.

With a deep sigh, he tried to focus on lists of extras his people had requested. If he could give his people some measure of extras above necessities, he would try. It would go a long way towards establishing some kind of normalcy.

Some were straight forward – books, extra blankets, and utensils. Others had him scratching his neck and wondering about cultural cross contamination – because some of the requests were downright bizarre. He could somewhat understand brushes ,paints, and painting paper; but what in Spirit's name was a tutu? And what kind of arcane literature was a Dungeon Master's Manual? He made a mental note to ask Whiteson. If anyone would know he would.

There was a discrete knock on the door. The Turians were still getting used to doors that operated completely manually from opening to signaling.

"Who is it?" His hand drifted down to the pistol that was always within reach. While he might be told he and his people were safe, he'd made it to General by being cautious of every situation even the perfect ones. Most particularly the perfect ones.

" _It's Kahok, Primarch_." He recognized his aide's voice.

"Enter."

The door opened and his aide stepped in, carrying a tray with a pot of hot water, covered, this time, in a bright yellow knit and sporting some sort of orange beak and beady black eyes. These tea cozies were getting odder and odder. There was also a Turian cup, a spoon, some sweetener, and a small container of _Khaal_.

Spirits, was it already time for his late evening cup? He'd worked far longer than he'd expected or wanted to.

"Is it that late all ready?" With a sigh, he lifted his hand away from his pistol and put his paper work into a couple of folders. He'd deal with tutus, paintbrushes, and Dungeon manuals tomorrow.

"I'm a little early sir." Kahok set the tray down on a nearby table and Victus stood up and stretched. Glad that he'd had the foresight to have a Turian chair brought down from the **Taetris** before she left. He'd have been too stiff to move if he hadn't.

Victus cocked his head in question as he moved over to the table and the couch that fronted it. The couch wasn't Turian specific but it was a lot softer than his chair.

"Officer Patel says we received a message today. Well really you received a message, sir." Kahok looked and sounded a bit uncertain.

"What was the message about?"

"There wasn't much of a personal message, sir. Just some brief comment about this being useful; but the rest of the message was taken up with plans for some sort of self contained way to grow plants with fish involved." Kahok sounded dubious about that last as well he should. What did fish have to do with plants?

"Let me see it."

Kahok sent over the plans and Victus sat down on the couch and studied them as he made his _Khaal._

He knew a little about hydroponics, particularly after Fedorian had insisted that every ship have a stasis-sealed box of seeds and dirt that came with instructions for growing dextro in a levo galaxy.

It took him only a few moments of reading to realize that these plans were far more elegant, complete, and useful than Fedorian's. More could be grown in less space, with fewer supplies, in less time; with the added benefit of Turian fish. Protein that wasn't a damned synthetic matt.

"Who sent it? Where did it come from?" Whoever had sent this deserved a medal; and Victus was far from a big fan of handing out medals for just anything.

"That's just it, sir. The message was apparently bounced around the few remaining comm satellites several times so we aren't sure exactly where it originated. And there was no name on the message but…" Here the youngster paused.

"But?" Sometimes Kahok could be a bit too dramatic.

"It was sent using an old war staff code."

"Old code?" Now Victus was both puzzled and uncertain. All his staff were here with him there would be no….. His thoughts slammed to a halt as he realized that there was one of his staff that wasn't here and wouldn't have gotten a new code. Vakarian.


	28. Chapter 28 - Directions

_Hello All. Happy Tuesday. Sorry for getting so slow but Real Life keeps attacking when I'm not looking. It does that, it really does. Sigh. Hope you're still enjoying this story; and many thanks for those that have faved, are following, or have left comments. You make writing worth while. If I make a mistake please let me know - I am so not perfect. Have a great day all. Cheers._

* * *

Directions

 **Shepard**

The VIs near genderless voice woke her out of a dream. Not always but every now and again these days she actually had pleasant dreams not nightmares. They, unfortunately, never lasted long but they were actually happening. This one had featured her, a shower, and Garrus. Why a being from a world like Palaven had been such a fan of showers – she couldn't fathom. But he had. Or maybe, a coy little voice at the back of her brain had whispered, he was a fan of her in a shower. Clothing not invited. She tried, unsuccessfully, not to blush at what they'd gotten up to. She was an adult and a damn N7. N7s didn't blush. It didn't work and she could feel her cheeks heating up.

Eager to get away from one of her personal porn movies as she'd dubbed them, she stuck her head out of the cave of her blankets. She could do that now. Trying it with a Turian cover hog sharing her bed had been impossible. The bastard had always managed to steal the majority of the covers, even if she fastened them down to her side of the bed. Thinking of him should hurt; but somehow, knowing what she knew now – she was less hurt and more concerned as to why he'd left.

"Joker? Why the hell is the V.I. waking me up?" She peered over at the clock and was horrified to see how early it was. "At this hour."

" _Sorry, Commander. Somebody input certain parameters into the eunuch and on occasion it arbitrarily decides if something is important or not. Apparently it decided that this call was important."_ He sounded a bit sheepish and more than a touch angry.

"After I'm done, get in touch with Tali and figure out how the hell to disable those parameters. I want you deciding who I should talk to, not some machine."

Even as she said it, she winced, realizing that she'd be reminding him of EDI.

" _Roger."_ He'd grown quieter. " _It's the Primarch."_ With Orson gone he was being more open about who was calling.

With that he signed off and she knew that he was hurting again. She'd have to do something to make it up to him, though she wasn't sure what that might be.

She got up and once she was steady on her feet, wrapped a light blanket around her and made the trek to her desk.

" _Commander Shepard_." Came a familiar deep flanging voice that sounded way too alert for this early.

"Primarch." She kept the visual off; he didn't need to see her with bed head. Something Turians did not get. Though for a brief amused moment she had a vision of Turians with their fringes all rumpled and bent.

" _Did I disturb you, Shepard_?" Victus had learned, quickly, how to read human vocal tones.

"It's several hours before duty hours, sir." She decided to be truthful but not as blunt as she normally was. Telling the Primarch of Palaven that he damn well woke her out of a sound sleep was not a good idea, though she was sure that Victus wouldn't take offense.

" _I'm sorry Commander_." And he did sound contrite. " _I'm still not used to Earth time zones."_

"I don't think a lot of humans are." She retorted and heard a chuff of laughter from him. "Why are you calling Primarch? Is there some problem?"

" _No. But I received a message last night_."

"Oh, from where?" If Victus was calling her then he thought it was important. Even half asleep she was sure of that fact.

" _We don't know for sure. It was bounced around several of the remaining comm buoys and a few planetary systems."_

"Somebody didn't want to be located." As she said that she realized just who that might be.

" _I would have ignored it; but included in the message were detailed plans for a hydroponic system that could help speed up feeding our people_ _without straining our current resources."_

"Really, can you send the specifics to me." Shepard knew that Earth was having much the same problem as Palaven. With much of the earth's fertile areas laid waste or buried under the detritus of battle, feeding the survivors was sometimes a struggle.

" _Of course."_

"You think Garrus sent it?"

" _I'm fairly sure of it_." He replied promptly.

"Also send me a copy of the original message and where it seemed to originate from." Now she was wide-awake. "We'll try to track him from there."

" _I was hoping you'd say that, Commander. If anyone can locate him – it will be you."_ He let out a little chirp that she recognized from Garrus – it meant that the individual was very pleased with themselves. Garrus sometimes did that in the morning while she was struggling to get out of bed; and she'd always accused him of being an insufferable morning person. He'd just back away slowly; ready to dodge whatever she was going to throw at him.

"You're one of those disgustingly chipper morning people aren't you Primarch?" She groaned.

" _I'm not quite sure what chipper means but I've always like mornings."_ He replied.

"Gonna find an airlock with your name on it." She grumbled. Victus started chuffing in amusement at her.

"Smart Ass." That just made him laugh out loud.

Though she hated being awakened so early, the thought that they might have a direction now to hunt down Garrus made it a little more palatable.

" _I'll leave you to your, what is it human's say – pretty rest."_

For a moment she was puzzled then she got it.

"It's Beauty Sleep, Primarch." She told him and got another chuff as he signed off. Well, at least she'd made someone's day – even as disgustingly early as it was.

As she let her muscles get up to speed with her brain; she thought she might as well get ready for duty.

About an hour later, after a long, indulgent shower, she made her way to the mess.

It would soon be busy but currently only Symon the cook, Hazlon and Mazera were present.

She got the biggest cup of coffee she could manage; and loaded it with cream and sugar – it was off times bitter these days. Pulled from supplies that had been in storage for months if not years – and went to sit with the others.

They all started to rise and she just motioned them back down.

"It's too early for that and we aren't even on duty yet." She mumbled around a mouthful of coffee. Taking in their settled looks. "Are you people all members of Insomniacs Anonymous?"

Hazlon tilted his head in confusion but Mazera just gave a snort as she took a sip of what Shepard thought might be tea.

"No, it's the time zones." She explained. The Turian nodded in agreement. "And star ships don't have a sun rise."

"True." Shepard paused to take another sip of her coffee. "I've been deployed on Star Ships so long that the lack of sunrise or sunset doesn't really bother me anymore."

About then the rest of the morning shift starting straggling into the mess. Some behaving like little more than caffeine starved zombies, some functional but quiet, while a few were of that annoying species of alert morning people. Greeting everyone cheerfully despite various threats of death, dismemberment, and airlocks.

Before she could say anything there was a clunk as a piece of armor hit the floor just outside the mess.

Jask's mandibles moved in what Shepard had learned was the Turian version of a sigh.

"Spirits, I'll be glad when he finishes growing." Came the soft rumble.

Shepard was about to question him when Hendan came into the mess, carrying that wayward greave of his.

"Are all Turian cadets that…" Mazera paused for a moment looking for the right word. "…uncoordinated?"

"Very much, no." Jask flapped his mandibles again. "But every now and again you get one like Hendan."

Mazera laughed. "I can't remember how many human cadets I've had like that."

Shepard snorted softly remembering a few that she'd served along side of during her many years. Then she quieted abruptly, remembering that she'd known and lost a couple of those youngsters on Akuse. She shook her head to shake off the screams that still shattered her nights on occasion.

Spotting her, Hendan came over. Though he came to an uncertain halt when he noticed her sitting with Hazlon and Mazera.  
Shepard motioned him over before he could back away. One thing he didn't lack for was manners.

"Cadet. Did you sleep well?" They'd found a small private room for him near the lounge.

Turians didn't blush but Hendan was doing enough mandible flapping for two or three Turians leading Shepard to think that that was part of the Turian version of blushing.

"Y..y…yes Commander." He paused to get control of his mandibles. "I don't really need a separate room though."

"You're my aide. I need to be able to contact you without disturbing anyone else." She replied glibly. Kid didn't need to know the truth and it was only a half lie anyway.

"Ah." Hendan fidgeted back and forth on his feet, his mismatched armor creaking, and rubbed his neck. "Do you want me to get you some…." He paused to wave vaguely at her large cup of coffee; and sniffed in its direction. "..more coffee is it?"

"No. I'm good; and don't worry about me in the mornings. You're not my personal valet – you're my aide. Here to help me with papers and things." She told him very firmly.

"Yes Commander." She thought he seemed a bit relieved but she wasn't all that familiar with reading the facial nuances of an adolescent Turian. Now an adult that acted like an adolescent on occasion was something entirely different. _Annoying bastard_.

Hendan went off to get some _Khaal_ and those meat strips Turians seemed to favor.

Cortez and Vega came into the mess. Cortez wide-awake; while Vega was doing a good impersonation of a sleepwalker.

Mazera snorted. "He always this alert?" She indicated the big N7 as he sort of gently bounced off a divider wall.

"No, I hear he and the estate's ground crew spent an interesting evening and I think it's catching up with him." Shepard tossed back and the woman laughed.

"Yeah, that group could drink a Krogan under the table."

"Depends on the Krogan." Shepard replied thinking of her ' _tank baby' -_ Grunt. Now heading up his own company of soldiers – some of Tuchanka's and Urdnot's best.

Yelter, nose deep in another data pad, came in, followed by Solana and Triskal; and bringing up the rear, was Alenko.

Spotting her the biotic hurried over just after Hendan got back to the table. The youngster was just sitting down when Alenko came up to the table.

"Cadet." Kaidan greeted the youngster. "If you wouldn't mind moving."

"Oh sorry, sir." The boy started to come back to his feet.

"He doesn't mind but I do, Alenko." Shepard realized that Kaidan was beginning to fall back into the behavior he used on the SR-1 when they were becoming a couple. She had no intention of letting him get started with it here. He was her XO and nothing more, no matter what he thought or wanted.

Both Hendan and Alenko stopped. The youngster half crouched there, food and drink in hand, unsure of whether he should go up or down.

"Commander, I am your XO." Alenko protested.

"Yes, and you will see me during duty hours unless there is some sort of emergency." She was brisk with him. Formal but not unfriendly. "Which I doubt we have at the moment." She motioned for Hendan to sit back down.

"But…I've got orders from Admiral Renfield." He protested, stepping back slightly from the table when she glared at him.

"Renfield is no longer my direct superior, as well you know." She returned coldly. "Later I'll look at what Renfield has to say but Hackett is now my direct superior." She didn't add, because she wasn't up for dealing with his protests, again, that not only would she be taking into consideration whatever the Primarch might request of her; but also any legitimate request her crew might have. Following Renfield's orders was about as welcome as getting stuck in Decon for half a day, which was to say – not at all.


	29. Chapter 29 - Just in Case

_Hello All, no haven't forgotten you. Real Life has just attacked with a vengeance - try a half ton Krogan in Kevlar armor and you'll get the idea. Thank you to all who have faved, or favorited, or just commented. You give me a reason to go one. Wishing you all a very good week and weekend. Cheers._

* * *

Just in Case,

 **Garrus**

Obtaining the plans for the hydroponic system was actually quite easy. Anceli, the woman who was using them had modified them from a Terran design; and she was more than delighted to share them with Garrus, after he'd approached her at the diner during lunch.

"I'd love to see them get out to more of our people." Anceli admitted to him. "To help in whatever way I can."

"I'm surprised that they haven't gotten around to more of the nearby recovering colonies?" Garrus commented, privately thinking that Victus would see to these plans being spread to every Turian he could reach, and Anceli would get her wish. He was only sorry that he couldn't put her clan name on it. If he did that – Anceli could be traced back to this planet and then he'd have to run again. He was bone weary of running, though he suspected that would be his life for years to come.

"We're a, what is it you say Paty, backwater planet." Dasken spoke up as she refilled their cups with _Khaal_.

"I preferred what Jostel used to call it – the Talon scrapings of the Galaxy." Paty commented and all the Turians gave chuffs of amusement.

"Jostel could be rather blunt." Dasken commented gently rubbing her neck. Garrus could tell that she still mourned her mate but the wound was slowly scaring over, as his loss of his mother had slowly scared over. Not gone, not ever fully gone but slightly less raw.

After lunch, Garrus went back to Jorge's. He'd meet up with Dasken in a couple of hours and go back to the compound.

At the moment, all Jorge had for him was straightening up work; but Garrus didn't mind. It felt good to just work not strategize or make decisions that were life altering. Work that achieved something, and, most of all, work that someone's life wasn't dependent on.

Before it was time to clean up and meet with Dasken, Garrus had gotten most of the interior of the shop in order. You could see where things were and actually find things without rummaging through piles of Jorge's ' _antiques_ '. Some of what he'd found was truly just junk and it was relegated to the back yard where most of the real salvage lived including, of all things, the looming rust and dirt streaked hulk of an Alliance M35 MAKO.

He'd been slowly moving things away from the vehicle so he could get in to look at her and see if she could be resurrected from the scrap heap. To his surprise, and instant suspicion, she was in far, far better shape than her exterior would lead one to believe. When he rubbed a hand over the rust stained outer shell, he was startled when some of the rust seemed to rub off as if it was merely paint.

He immediately began to suspect that she'd been planted here. No one would think that a fully functioning MAKO had been left behind in what seemed to be a non-combat situation. Given her proximity to town and the main road, she was in a strategic position to take out or block anyone coming to help the town.

He promised himself he would gain access to her interior and her computer and rewrite any code he found that could be used by outsiders to reactivate her. Between his hacking programs and Tali's, he was sure he could uncover and break any buried programs, and if not he'd install both a jamming program and a program that would alert him if someone tried to fire her up.

Noticing what the time was, he got cleaned up and after bidding Jorge goodbye, headed for the Citadel.

Dasken was sitting on the stairs waiting for him.

"Garat." She stood up and stretched.

"Dasken." He looked at her curiously. It was much more comfortable inside the diner.

"Paty." She explained as she fell in step next to him. "She's determined to make us a couple and I couldn't listen to her plotting anymore."

"Should I be afraid?" He really wasn't up for someone trying to interfere in his private life.

"No." Here Dasken gave several irritated mandible clicks. "Just ignore her. She means well, just doesn't know when to leave it alone; but don't be surprised if she find ways to put us in proximity."

He clicked his mandibles in acknowledgement. After dealing with Kelly Chambers and her ' _hands on_ ' approach to the crew's mental health, he figured that Paty would have to go a long way to be that interfering. He still shuddered in remembrance at a long, slow elevator ride he'd inadvertently taken with the very chatty, overly friendly Yoeman. The only thing that had saved him from finding out just how friendly she was willing to get was Thane entering the elevator.

The Drell had hesitated for only a moment but Garrus was fairly sure that he'd realized instantly the situation. Also, now that he thought about it, if he'd fled the elevator as he'd been planning, Thane would have been in much the same situation he'd been in so maybe the Drell was also protecting himself. Needless to say, the two aliens had gotten off at the next floor, whether or not they needed to, leaving a disappointed Chambers to go on up to the CIC.

After the elevator doors had closed, Thane had looked at him and just nodded. Garrus nodded back, they hadn't needed any words.

Dasken and he made small talk till they got back to the compound. There they separated.

"Let me know if there is something in particular you want attended to." He told her before he walked off.

When he got back to his quarters and checked the front door lock he saw that someone had tried to hack it a couple of times with no success. No doubt Jinta and her human companion – Jason he thought Dasken had called him. He wondered if he was going to have to put in a second layer of encryption. One layer to keep them occupied and one layer to keep things secure.

He got inside and though he wasn't hungry now, he realized that he should probably get some basic supplies from the kitchen to keep over here. It'd been years since he'd been freely able to go get a midnight snack as the humans said. He'd been allowed to rummage in the Normandy's food stores at all times but being that she was a military vessel he kept it to a minimum.

He made sure that everything was secure and put away. He didn't think the youngsters could get past Tali's security, but he took no chances. That was one thing his time as Archangel had driven into him. Never assume.

He made his way over to the large shed that abutted the hills in the back of the compound. Dasken had told him, on their way home, that that was where all the maintenance tools and supplies were kept.

As he came in the door, he was again struck by the fact that something was off about the shed. Not overtly off but enough that it was triggering his paranoia. Planning to come back later and check it out, he filled a small service cart with what he would need to fix the compound's interior lighting. A ladder, some light bulbs, and a tool belt. The belt was designed for a human so it didn't quite fit. He made a mental note to alter it to fit himself.

Once he had everything, he made his way to the front of the compound to replace/tighten lights. He soon found that many of the lights that were out – had simply been loosened in their sockets by time and weather. After quickly cleaning them off and checking to see that they worked with a tester he'd found in among the other tools – he screwed them back in. If they were truly out then he replaced them, fewer of those than he had thought.

He'd done the front part of the compound when he acquired an audience. He'd come down the ladder to find himself facing Malli. Still silent and still clutching the brown, shaggy whatever he'd first seen her with.

"Hello Malli." He said politely, nodding to her.

She silently buried her face in the toy; but he hadn't really expected her to say anything. The child needed an expert to handle whatever trauma had silenced her and he was most certainly not that kind of expert.

As he slowly made his way around the compound, Malli trailed along behind. He wasn't sure what she found so interesting but he was not going to chase her off. As he worked, he carried on a one sided conversation with her about the weather and other mundane things.

"So what are your favorite foods?" He asked, not expecting an answer, as he came down the stairs.

"I like your Cheeters." Came an excited dual toned voice.

He glanced up startled to find that Malli had been joined by Jinta. He sighed inwardly – so much for a quiet workday.

"They're _Chetes_ and hello Jinta." He nodded as he folded up the ladder and put it on the cart. And, as he had thought, acquired another watcher. Jinta now trailing along with Malli as he went about his work, but unlike Malli, Jinta was anything but quiet. Peppering him with questions about anything and everything.

He answered what he could or wanted to and deflected the rest.

"Aren't you supposed to be learning from Ms. Steward?" He asked, as he set up the ladder underneath another light. Dasken had told him that she gave the children lessons several days a week.

Jinta snorted at that. Obviously she was spending a lot of time with the humans.

"Ms. Steward just wants to talk about the past." She grumbled.

"The past is important." Garrus told her as he went up the ladder.

"Why?" Why seemed to be a big word in her vocabulary.

Garrus thought about it for a minute as he unscrewed the light bulb and tested it. It was good, obviously just being loosened by time and the environment. He wiped it down and screwed it back into the socket.

"The humans have a saying.." He told her as he got down off the ladder. "Those who don't learn from the past are doomed to repeat the same mistakes."

Wonder of wonders, Jinta was actually quiet as she considered what he'd said.

"That kinda makes sense." She finally mumbled.

"It makes a lot of sense." He told her, realizing that he'd gotten all the lights checked out and fixed. There were fewer high intensity lights then one might expect; but still no area in the compound was really dark or shadowed. Unless you wanted it to be, he thought ruthlessly. He'd already found a couple of control panels in his quarters. One was for the security inside the building, and one was for the outside lights. He was fairly sure that the control panel for the gate turrets was there also, though he hadn't found it yet.

Collapsing the ladder, he put it back on the cart and got ready to head for the shed. Followed, of course, by his audience.

"I'll ask again, don't you have lessons with Ms. Steward?" He'd stopped to peer down at the two small females. Though they caused him no trouble, he didn't really want them around if he was going to be looking for more control panels, particularly not Jinta.

"Yes they do!" Came Dasken's annoyed voice and the two girls suddenly looked guilty. "Have they been bothering you, Garat?"

"No, just following me." He assured the woman; overlooking Jinta's relentless questioning.

Dasken was giving him a look that said that she didn't necessarily believe him.

"Girls, let us leave Garat to his work." With that she shooed the two youngsters towards the main house. Jinta dragging her feet like any youngster who didn't want to go.

Relieved of his audience he put everything away in the shed. Spending a few minutes to neaten it up. It wasn't truly overwhelmed with mess; just a little bit cluttered.

He was very careful to not disturb Tesen's ' _cache_ ' of ERats. As long as the boy could reassure himself that they were still there; he'd stop taking more bars to hoard.

Once done, he went over to the main house and in the back way. The kitchen was actually quiet. Lunch was past and it wasn't time to start dinner.

Finding a bag, he made sure to collect a few non-perishables and one or two perishable items to take back to his quarters. Things he could use to make small, quick, filling snacks or meals for himself.

He took everything back to his quarters and put it away.

That seen to, he spent the rest of the time until sunset, clearing the compound; mostly of fallen tree branches. He dragged them over to a woodpile at the back of the compound, where he cut down all the big branches into little ones. It was simple work; but like that at Jorge's rewarding, requiring little thought but keeping his mind busy. It wasn't calibrations but it would do.

The sun was beginning to set when he finished and made his way out to the main gate.

Teskal would be by shortly, so he could send out that message to Victus. For a moment he felt deeply guilty at abandoning his friend and his people then images of Shepard bombarded him. He didn't know if he would ever completely abandon his people but he did know that he couldn't bring harm in anyway to his mate. It wasn't right and it wasn't in him.

The older man had a transmissions van that he often slept in overnight since his route would sometimes take him out several hundred miles from the spaceport.

Garrus had obtained permission from Anna and Dasken for Teskal to park the van inside the compound and spend the night. Spirits knew he had several spare bedrooms; though he almost gave into the temptation to put Teskal up in what had obviously been a room for a female of some form.

Far too much pink and ruffles. Shepard would hate it and Teskal would be less than amused.

It was obviously designed for a human or an Asari. If it had been for a Turian it would have been in various tones of blue with many layers of cloth be they drapes or bed linens. He had no idea what a Batarian would find feminine and wouldn't even try to figure out an Elcor.


	30. Chapter 30 - In Place

_Salutations All, I hope that life is treating you well. Sorry this is a short chapter but wanted to get something out. Yes, I'm still writing, albeit much slower than I was before. Currently dealing with a friend's emergency so even more involved with real life then usual. Thank you to everyone who had commented, faved, or is following. You keep me going. I've had posts from a couple of guests - unfortunately I can't reply back to you but thank you for the comments. All of you have a great week end. Cheers._

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In Place

 **Garrus**

Teskal arrived just as the last of the sun's light was fading from behind the lowering cloudbanks above. Garrus motioned him and the transmissions van into the compound. He indicated for Teskal to drive the van nearer to his quarters. As Teskal complied, Garrus locked the front gates behind him.

As he walked up, he was surprised to see scratches on the side of the van as though something had attempted to get inside. It made him more determined than ever to check out Tesertus native fauna.

As Teskal stepped down out of the van, carrying his duffle, Garrus indicated the scratches, and in one case actual gouges.

"Yeah, ran into a small pack of varren in one of the outlying areas." Teskal told him. "I wasn't really in danger but the Spirit's cursed things kept me up all night with their scratching, growling, and occasional howls. I think they wanted my dinner."

"Can Varren even eat dextro?" Garrus wondered.

Teskal snorted. "I think Varren can eat whatever they damn well please – including Turians."

It was Garrus's turn to snort at that.

It made Garrus wonder if the enormous Urz had made it through the war. He'd gotten the feeling the beast was more than a bit of an opportunist. Look at the way he'd started following Shepard. Of course her feeding him a pyjak hadn't hurt either. They'd, at least, managed to convince her not to bring it onboard – but it'd been a near thing. And her cooing and talking ' _baby talk_ ' to the thing had weirded out all the aliens – even Grunt; actually particularly Grunt. Probably because sometimes she'd even talked to Grunt that way.

"You have no idea how good it's going to feel to actually be sleeping in a real bed not a bunk in a van." Teskal hummed contentedly. "The only thing good about that is that the bunk is situated right over a power coupling – at least it's comfortably warm most nights."

"No power coupling, but the bed is fairly soft." Garrus told him, leading the way. "It is, however, a human bed."

"With enough pillows, even those are comfortable." Teskal commented then paused and really looked around at the compound.

He did a slow turn, taking in everything that Garrus had already spotted, his mandibles clicking slowly, thoughtfully.

"Someone was paranoid and preparing to have to defend this place." Came the eventual comment. Garrus gave a mandible click of agreement.

"I haven't even found all of this places secrets." Garrus told him as he let him inside. Once he was sure the front door was closed and that Jinta or Jason hadn't gotten inside – somehow. Though he was sure of his security programs he was not so sure of the _Terrible Techies_.

Garrus showed him which room he could use. Barely restraining himself from offering the pink one.

Teskal stepped inside and dumped his duffle on the bed.

"If you don't like the décor – I can always offer you another room." Garrus barely kept his amusement out of his sub harmonics.

Teskal eyed him. "I get the feeling that there's something odd about that offer."

"Well…" Garrus said with a chuff of amusement. "..you'd have to like pink…a lot."

Teskal chuffed back. "Thanks but no."

"Whether the leader was human or not; it says that his companion probably was." Garrus commented as they made their way to the kitchen. "Pink isn't exactly a favorite among other races."

It wasn't as large as the main house but it was still larger than the Normandy's mess and very complete.

Again Teskal did a slow circle taking everything in.

"Someone had no intentions of depriving himself or herself." He finally said.

"I don't even know what half of these things are supposed to do." Garrus admitted waving a hand at some very complex, stainless steel thing.

"Well, cooking was never your strong suit, Garrus." Teskal teased, referring to all the times where Garrus had made meals rather ' _very_ _well done'_. They weren't Shepard's incinerated offerings but they were up there. Thinking about Shepard hurt, a bit; but being able to think and talk about her to someone without hiding his feelings or who he was, made it somehow easier.

"Help yourself to whatever you find." Garrus told him, motioning towards the cooler.

With no second urging the older man started digging into the cooler.

"No beer?"

"I wasn't expecting company." Garrus retorted and got a click in return.

"You owe me two the next time I'm here." Like many other things beer was one of those items that wasn't considered important for recovery.

Teskal cobbled together a meal from what he found and brought it to the nearby dining table. Garrus joined him, though he hadn't gotten anything to eat.

"You're not eating."

"Large lunch." Garrus deflected him or so he thought.

Teskal snorted at that. "Garrus, you haven't been eating enough – you're too thin."

"Rationing." Garrus explained, again trying to deflect him.

Teskal snorted even louder. "You're a soldier, your ration allotment is higher than a civilian and you know it." Then he paused and grew solemn. "Is it being away from Shepard."

Garrus was going to protest; but then realized that this was Teskal, who had known him since he was a gangly teen-ager.

"Yes." He finally admitted quietly, for the first time in a very long time his sorrow and loneliness creeping into his sub harmonics.

Without saying a word, the older man reached over and gently knocked Garrus on the arm.

"Can you do anything to get back to her?"

"I dare not try. The Admiral will no doubt be monitoring all her incoming communications." Garrus paused and gave a sad whine. "I'd be lucky if she even saw my communications."

"May the Spirits defecate in the Admiral's bedroom." Teskal growled; and despite everything Garrus had to laugh at that.

"I don't think the Spirits act like feral varren, Teskal."

"Maybe they ought to start doing it then." Came the grumble.

"Like the Spirits will listen to us." Garrus said. It was thought that Turian Spirits listened but very rarely, as far as he knew, did they get involved with the lives of the Turians who talked to them. He wished they would, there was so much he would ask for – the most important being reunited with Shepard, his mate.


End file.
